Second Chance
by Gotham Siren
Summary: Sequel to Little Rose: An innocent man's life is turned upside down when he is accused of being a mastermind killer. What kind of link does Rosalia's adopted father share with these series of events? Cape Pairing: Vince/Orwell
1. Pilot: Heroes v Villains

**What's this? A new story! Yay!**

**Welcome to my "Little Rose" 'verse, yet again. Remember, you don't need to be a fan of The Cape to read this, nor do you have to be a fan of the Trauma Center franchise. Your reviews are definitely encouraged. I've already seen some difficulty with this first chapter, so if I want these other 10 chapters to go smoothly as planned, I **_**really **_**need to hear your thoughts about this.**

**Here goes; I do not own the Trauma Center franchise, nor The Cape.**

_**Second Chance: Chapter One- Pilot: Heroes v. Villains **_

Vince Faraday was an average All-American-Boy. He had been in Palm City all of his life. He was a part of the PCPD, just like his father. Within the 32 years of the cop's life, he had gotten married and had a son. Family was exceptionally important to him; his wife Dana and nine-year-old son Trip were like the center of his universe.

This is the story of how his life was torn to pieces in a matter of hours, and how he tried to win it all back.

-0-

Within the ten years that ARK had been in business, Vince grew more and more wary of it. He felt as though the PCPD was getting pushed out of the way to make room for the security business. It wasn't much to destroy the police department, at the time anyway.

When new chief of police was selected, that was when problems _really _began to arise.

-0-

Security had been tight on the day of the press conference to welcome the new chief. The criminal mastermind known as Chess became a real threat in the past ten years. Rumor was that he was targeting the new chief.

Vince thought that everything was going well. When the press conference was over, there wasn't a sign of Chess anywhere. However, he was quickly proven wrong when his co-workers claimed to be called off. That _Vince _had called them off. Right then he realized that something was very wrong.

The cop raced to the van that he knew belonged to his chief. He hoped that it was a random happening; it was his job to make sure that Chief Ross was safe.

When Vince came up on the van, it was locked from the inside. Dammit, he had to get in there! Unfortunately, he was too slow for his own good. No matter how many times that he lifted the door handle, or how many times he stood back to shoot the windows in hopes to shatter them, it was to no avail.

Seconds later, the cop was thrown back from an explosion that detonated in the vehicle itself.

The new chief of police was dead, which gave Chess leeway. Evil had won the battle once; no matter how hard he worked to stop it from winning again, Vince wouldn't ever learn that he was knocking on evil's front stoop until it was too late.

-0-

Talk around Palm City was that the PCPD would soon be taken over. Peter Fleming and his business ARK Corporation were working hard each and every day to get closer to taking over the police force.

He promised a better world. As now that he had an adopted daughter to look after, he wanted this new world for _her_.

Of course, this was partly false information. While he _did _care for little Rosalia's well-being what he had in mind for Palm City may not be better. If the utopia of an average Palm City resident was Fleming gaining full power over the city, then you were in luck! His other personality, Chess, just did all of his dirty work for him.

However, many people weren't aware of the billionaire's ulterior motives. The citizens were, for the most part, awaiting the time for him to take over.

Vince Faraday wasn't very sure of where he fell into this criteria. He was quite wary of Peter Fleming's plan to change Palm City, yet he was convinced to meet with the CEO of the company that was trying to change his hometown.

What this world had come to, the cop had no clue.

-0-

On the day that Vince went with his best friend, Marty, to meet with Fleming, Rosalia had decided that she wanted to draw the throng of people that had passed by her father figure's building. And what better view could she have, other than from the huge windows in the CEO's office.

Peter tried to tell the little blonde that he would be busy, but she nonchalantly replied that she didn't care. She would be too busy drawing, anyway. The billionaire just left her alone at that.

When Vince and Marty came up to his office, Rosalia was sitting down in front of the huge glass windows. The sandy blonde cop knew that Fleming had an adopted daughter, and he felt really sorry for her. They probably never spent any time together. God forbid that he had biological kids in the past…

The little blonde picked her head up at the sound of the door closing. "Mr. Fleming?" she called out shyly, only to freeze when she saw both police officers walking into the room. "Um, hi…"

Vince flashed Rosalia a little grin. "Hey there, kiddo. We were just looking for him. Do you know where he is?"

The bright-pink eyed blonde shook her head. "He told me that he would be right back…," she added quietly.

"Okay. We can wait," the sandy blonde smiled back gently. Poor girl looked really nervous.

Rosalia tucked herself back into her drawing, sticking her tongue out as she concentrated further.

A few moments later, Fleming came back into the room. He was greeted by Marty, who began with, "Mr. Fleming, this is the police officer I was telling you about."

"Vince Faraday," the billionaire shook the younger man's hand and gave him a light grin. "Nice to meet you; I've heard many things about you."

The sandy blonde nodded, feeling a little uneasy. What _did _Marty say about him?

Fleming walked towards the window his adopted daughter was sitting next to and looked down at the pedestrians that walked along the sidewalks. He cupped one hand in the other as he replied to his possible employee, "ARK is going to change everything, Vince. I hope you keep your nose clean."

"I don't take bribes, sir," Vince added, slightly offended. Obviously, Marty hadn't said enough.

"Forgive me; that was rude," the CEO began, tossing the sandy blonde an apologetic look. He then shiftet his weight onto his other foot and looked back out the window. "You're a home-town boy, aren't you?"

"Born and raised. I used to play ball in Ditmus Park back when I was a boy," Vince began, motioning to the general whereabouts of the park. "And my father used to be a Palm City Sherriff."

"You must be having mixed feelings about this whole thing, then," Peter Fleming said.

"I just wanna be a cop," the sandy blonde replied in all seriousness.

"Good answer. You surely won't regret this. I want you the clock first thing Monday morning," the billionaire met with his employee again and gave him a knowing look.

As Vince and Marty left the room, Rosalia picked her head up and looked back at her father figure. "Mr. Vince seems really nice."

Oh yes. Vince was nice. Nice enough to take the blame for Chess' crimes. This would make it all the more easier to gain control of the PCPD. The more '_good_' Fleming does, the more citizens he would get on his side.

-0-

An investigative blogger known as Orwell was possibly one of the biggest nuisances that Fleming had ever faced. Not only did he, (or who they would assume to be a he. Orwell's voice recordings were always very deep and manly), know of the billionaire's true identity, but he tried to prove it on a daily basis.

However, his plans never seemed to work like the way he wanted them to. Orwell wanted results, but he wasn't getting very many.

The blogger posted _everything _he ever found on his website. Hell, there was even a rumor that the PCPD were Orwell Is Watching followers.

Vince was slightly wary of the blogger. He had no idea if he was fooling around with Palm City or not. Sure, ARK wasn't the most homely business out there, but only time would tell if it was all it claimed to be.

-0-

The sandy blonde padded over to his computer chair and turned the PC and monitor on. As he waited for the computer to boot up, he let his mind wander. Vince began to think of the little girl back at ARK. Just how happy could she be there? Surely, Fleming would not be able to spend quality time with her. The billionaire was too busy trying to take over PCPD, Vince highly doubted that this gave Rosalia and Peter a little, if any, time to spend together. He had to wonder just how well the little blonde dealt with that.

By the time the computer was fully booted, Vince clicked on the internet icon to check his e-mail. However, as he did so, a dark red window came up on the screen.

The cop stared back at the screen, frowning at the Orwell Is Watching logo that appeared a second or so later.

"_Hello, Vince," _came from the computer speakers. The voice was deep and very recognizable. It was Orwell himself messaging Vince. "_This is Orwell. Sorry to hear that you're leaving the force. This town needs more honest cops like you. You really believe all of this hype about how ARK is going to make the city safer? Well… not so fast," _the blogger's monotone voice paused for a moment as a picture of an explosive was brought up. _"This is L-9. The same explosive that took the life of Chief Ross."_

Vince studied the container that was labeled L-9 in the picture. Something told him to remember that…

"_How did L-9 reach Palm City?" _the blogger asked rhetorically before showing another picture. This time it was of a strange looking man, who looked like he had Scales instead of skin. "_This man. Dominic Raoul, a.k.a. Scales. Not just a pretty face, he owns one of the biggest smuggling organizations on the West Coast."_

The sandy blonde's forehead crinkled in confusion. He still had no idea why Orwell was contacting _him _of all people. Maybe it was just because he was going to work for ARK. Maybe Vince's suspicions were right and there was more to Peter Fleming than meets the eye.

"_Tonight there is a shipment of L-9 coming in on an ARK freight car. Let's see if you're still a cop, Vince. We'll keep in touch."_

The screen went back to normal with that, leaving Vince to his thoughts.

-0-

The freight yard was a pretty eerie place after dark. Just the homeless men alone would give you the chills. Which was why, if you _ever _went after dark, it was extremely important to call for back up.

After Vince received that e-mail from Orwell, he scrambled for his phone and called his best friend. Marty agreed to meet with Vince in the freight yard and arrived just a little after the sandy blonde did.

By the time Marty found Vince, he was already searching in the ARK freight cars.

"Man, have you lost your mind? Vince, this is illegal."

"You think that's illegal?" the sandy blonde reached into the car he was at and pulled out a little baby doll. He held it out in front of Marty, who just looked back at him in disbelief.

The other cop looked inside of the freight car and read the box it came out of. "Pammy Pees… hours of toilet training fun?" Marty shot him another glance.

Vince then swiftly popped the baby doll's head off, revealing a container of L-9. "I dunno about you, but I'm thinking recall."

"Look, I don't know. ARK is a big business, Vince," Marty caught something from the corner of his eye, which made his body tense. If he tried to warn Vince about this, he would surely be killed for it.

ARK troops hurried over to both cops, snatching Vince by the arm.

The other cop looked baffled. "No, I've got this!" he shouted at the ARK troops. This was of no use. A moment later, the sandy blonde was injected with a sedative to render him unconscious.

Vince had no idea what he was going to have to deal with when he finally woke up. His life was going to change forever and all because he wouldn't stay in bed.

-0-

Vince was running for his life, _literally_. It turned out that he was right about something after all. Peter Fleming revealed himself as Chess to the sandy blonde. And now that he knew of it, he had to die.

This was why he was running for his life. More importantly, he was running for his life with Chess' mask on. Fleming had ordered his troops to staple the mask to Faraday's face. At that rate, Chess would be caught, and the billonaire would be free to take over the police force.

The framed cop couldn't believe what was going on around him. Helicopters full of ARK troops chased after him from above as he ran for cover in the freight yard. Even his best friend had turned on him. News reporters had gotten the word that Chess had been found and was being hunted down at that very moment.

-0-

Dana Faraday walked into her kitchen and noticed her son sitting down watching the morning news. She didn't mind him watching it, but sometimes she worried that he would hear a little too much.

"Hey," she greeted warmly. "Oatmeal okay, hun?"

The nod that Trip gave prompted the strawberry blonde to turn around and get to work.

"Where's dad?" the nine-year-old asked.

"I dunno. He must have gone to work early," Dana answered as she began cooking prep.

Trip focused in on the TV, frowning as the news reporter started talking about the action down at the freight yard. "Mom, I think they caught Chess. Do you think that's where dad is?"

"Maybe," the mother began, walking over to her son to place his breakfast in front to him before going back to the counter to clean up.

"Why did they say that?" the blonde boy frowned at the TV.

"Say what?" Dana asked.

"They said dad was Chess."

The strawberry blonde turned around in a whirl and padded over to the TV. "That's a mistake. You must not have heard it right."

-0-

Trip heard it right. Everyone who was watching the news thought that Vince Faraday was Chess. And a few moments later, they all thought that Vince blew up in an explosion.

However, when bullets were being fired at him, the framed cop took cover and fell down into an underground tunnel. It was only a few seconds later until the explosion occurred.

-0-

When Vince became conscious again, he did a double take at his surroundings. Where was he, at a carnival? He surrounded by four people, all who had clothing on fit for a circus.

"Wh- Where am I?" the sandy blonde asked, a bit discombobulated. It wasn't until then that he noticed that he was tied to a chair.

An older, wise, looking man named Max stared at him as if he was searching for something. "187 on the nose, am I right?"

A much shorter man by the name of Rollo stood next to Vince and slapped him as hard as he could for not responding to the older man. "He's trying to guess your weight, 187, is he right?"

Vince blinked at the sudden strike. This day just couldn't get any more worse. "187... Yeah, that's right."

Raia, a woman with blonde corkscrew curls, grinned as she spoke up, "he's never wrong."

"So you're Chess?" the older man questioned.

"No. I'm not Chess!" Vince fought back.

The older man's face fell. "Is there egg on my face?" he snapped his fingers, to which someone on stilts hurried towards the TV and turned it on with the end of a stilt.

The news reporter from before was recapping for those who had just tuned in. Apparently everyone thought that Vince, a.k.a. Chess, was dead.

The framed cop fumed at the TV. Oh this was just friggen great!

-0-

Vince and the strange people he had just met, known as the Carnival of Crime, finally made a deal. The carnival wanted money, and he wanted Peter Fleming charged for his crimes. Max, the oldest and wisest of the bunch, told Vince that if he helped the carnival get Peter Fleming's money, they would help him get back to Dana and Trip.

The first ting Vince did was hand over his ARK key card. That way, the carnival had access to every ARK operated bank in Palm City. It wasn't very long at all before the carnival did what they did best, and that was robbing banks.

-0-

The billionaire heard of the bank robbery just as quickly, and ordered to see the footage. He and Marty were in his office looking at the security feed, with Rosalia stretching on her tiptoes to see what was going on.

By the time that the robbery was caught on camera, the only thing to be seen was a raccoon dragging a bag of money as it scurried down the street.

The little blonde's face lit up at the sight of the animal. "Hey, Mr. Fleming? Can I get a pet raccoon?"

Fleming stared back at his adopted daughter in disbelief. "You want a raccoon?"

Rosalia nodded. "I like animals."

Her father figure sighed. "Well not this raccoon, Rose. Apparently this one is a thief," he sent a pointed look over to his employee.

"We're doing everything we can to find out who did this sir," Marty responded firmly.

The eight-year-old sighed and walked away from Peter and his head of security. Sometimes Mr. Fleming was very weird.

-0-

While nosing around in the carnival's costume room, Vince found a cloak that reminded him of the superhero in his son's favorite comic book "The Cape". As he tried it on, he was pleased to know that the cloak fit perfectly. Maybe he could use this to send a message to his son. It could be dangerous, but it was worth a try…

-0-

"I haven't seen this old rag in years," Max began, taking the cloak into his hands.

"I want to send my son a message. One man can make a difference, no matter what," Vince spoke, his voice thick with emotion. He looked Max in the eyes, letting him know that he was serious about this.

"What do you want me to do, Vincent? I can't help you."

"Max, you made me a promise! I held up my end of the bargain," the framed cop snapped.

"It takes time to master this spider silk," the magician looked back at the younger man. He was determined, wasn't he? A sigh drew from Max. "If you're this willing to learn, I'll help you," he leaned forward before continuing, "but you'll give me your soul, Vince Faraday."

-0-

On the road to mastering Max's cape, it took a lot of time and effort. The magician helped Vince learn all of the mechanics and tricks that can be used with a cape. Max wasn't kidding when he said that Vince would be giving over his soul.

Even the other carnies chipped in to help the framed cop. Raia was an acrobat and a dancer for the Carnival of Crime, but she was also Team Mom. When it came to looking over someone's health, she was right there. Rollo had the pleasure of testing Vince's fighting skills, and Raia was right there making sure that things wouldn't get _too _rough. Her husband Ruvi was in charge of teaching the sandy blonde hypnosis, and tricks among the mind. The snarky hypnotist wasn't the friendliest with the carnival's newest houseguest, much to everyone else's annoyance.

But, when Ruvi was trying to teach the framed cop hypnosis, hilarity ensued.

Vince and the hypnotist were sitting across from each other at the table that the carnival usually played cards and other games on.

Ruvi started out by moving his index and middle fingers in front of the sandy blonde. One finger would lift up and the other would drop. Back and forth. "The point is to not let the sucker know he's being hypnotized. So you talk about the weather, or my wife, she's giving me a hard time."

Vince had no idea that hypnosis worked. More importantly, he had no idea that it worked on _him._

As the hypnotist's hand slammed down on the table, the framed cop was knocked out of his unknown trance. He blinked repeatedly and looked around, oblivious.

"What was that?" Vince asked.

"I just hypnotized you, sucker," Ruvi began smugly.

Vince snorted. "Yeah, okay right. You hypnotized me," he added in disbelief.

"Then uh," The hypnotist smirked, "Why are you wearing girly panties, Vincent?" he added in a hushed tone.

"I- what?" Vince sat up and pulled his shirt up. Sure enough, when he tugged at his underwear it was frilly and pink. He glowered back at the man opposite from him. "That is not cool, that is _not _cool, Ruvi!"

This little charade went around the carnival for weeks. The former cop was embarrassed, but he swore that he would seek revenge.

Of course, when he did, there was hell to pay. Both men sat across from each other like before, this time Vince was moving his fingers back and forth. He said not a word, but had the same effect as Ruvi had on him before.

As the framed cop slammed his hand down on the table, the hypnotist was snapped out of his trance.

"You wish," Ruvi shot back, "sucker."

Vince looked back at the other man and motioned towards his own chest.

The hypnotist looked down at his shirt and opened it up, revealing a bright red bra attached to his chest.

As their eyes met, the sandy blonde gave his own smug smirk. "Well, you give me a hundred bucks and I won't tell the crew."

Both men broke into a laugh, much to Ruvi's annoyance. His laughter was the first to die down. When it did, he punched the framed cop's face. "Don't get cocky," he warned Vince."

-0-

The sandy blonde was lucky to have finished his training when he did. He went to spy on the action going down at docks, but wasn't really prepared for the problems he would encounter.

Scales had brought in a shipment of L-9 at the docks. The docks were his domain. Anyone that tried to get in the way was seriously asking for trouble. This was what happened to poor Vince. The smuggler found Vince spying in a crouched position. He picked the former cop up and proceeded to pick a fight with the man who was dressed up in a cape. Vince fought back with all of his might, but it didn't matter. He was wrapped up in a tight chain cocoon and tossed into the water like useless garbage.

The deformed smuggler had walked off, not even caring that his opponent was sinking to his death.

Vince struggled to get out of the chains, but in the end, it just made it worse on himself. He took a deep breath and remembered what Max had told him in his training. He wasn't supposed to be afraid. Max had taught him what to do. Vince just clenched his eyes shut and let his mind lead his body out of the chains.

He climbed up the concrete leading to the pier and eased himself onto solid ground. Once he could finally get his footing back, he padded onto the warehouse where Scales did all of his deals in.

Vince looked around the warehouse floor from where he stood on the balcony above. There had to be something he could do. He caught something from the corner of his eye, causing him to look across from him. When he did, he saw a hooded figure snapping a few pictures of him. Who the hell was that, anyway?

The figure took off, as did Vince. He took a shortcut to catch up with whomever it was that he was chasing. In a flash, he tripped the hooded individual with a gumball machine. The figure fell to the ground along with the machine.

Vince frowned as the stack of papers that were once in the mystery person's hands, came tumbling down to the ground. Wait; were those Orwell-Is-Watching flyers?

The former cop glowered back at the figure, his anger turning into shock as the figure's hood dropped, revealing a young woman with wavy brunette hair.

"Wait, _you're _Orwell?" he asked in disbelief. Seeing as the woman didn't respond, he barked back at her, "Get up."

Orwell did so, but tried to defend herself in the process. She swung her tazer back at the vigilante, to which he knocked it out of her hand and grabbed her from behind.

"What are you, twelve?" he growled down at her.

"You're the one wearing long underwear and a cape!" the brunette fired back with venom on her tongue, blowing hair out of her face in the process.

"Fair enough," Vince began, releasing the blogger from a vice grip.

She proceeded to hurry away, only to have the vigilante trail after her.

"So, you're just going to leave? I think you owe me an explanation," Vince stared back at the mysterious woman, who continued to ignore him.

Orwell scoffed as she hurried down the corridor. "And why do you think that?"

Vince reached for her arm and bored his eyes into hers. "Because you were snapping pictures of me. You know, people who walk around in hooded costumes generally don't want people finding out their identity. I'm sure you can relate to that."

Orwell let out a hasty sigh. "Fine. Follow me."

The vigilante sent her a confused look. "Where are we going?"

"Do you want answers or not?" she snapped over her shoulder as she looked away from Vince.

He followed after her and came up on a shiny, electric blue car. "What, is this thing yours?"

"What did you expect, a bike?" Orwell quipped. The sandy blonde just stared back at her, to which prompted an eye roll from the blogger. "Get in."

The two sat in silence for the duration of the car ride. Vince would look over at the mysterious blogger every now and then. He was trying to figure her out, but it really wasn't very easy.

Orwell was just as curious as the man next to her was. Who the hell else knew about Peter Fleming?

When they got to the blogger's hideout, she ordered him to press a button in the car to open up the back entrance to her hideout. He obliged, not thinking that his fingerprints were in her grasp soon after that.

Vince and Orwell got out of the car and headed into the brunette's hideout. Everything was so state-of-the-art. Especially her tech!

The blogger slipped out of her jacket as she padded over to her computers. She sat down and began steadily typing at her virtual keyboard. "Who do you work for?" she deadpanned.

The sandy blonde frowned, not really sure how to answer that. "I don't work for anybody."

"Please," Orwell lightly scoffed, affixing her eyes onto her screen. "Just another mind game straight out of Peter Fleming's twisted brain."

The vigilante watched Orwell warily. "What are you doing?"

"Running the fingerprints from when you touched the button in the car. I'll find you," the brunette deadpanned. She then read the result that came up on her search engine, "Vince Faraday," in a whisper.

Vince hurried over to Orwell and grabbed her by the collar of her vest, his hood falling down in the process. "Vince Faraday is dead," he growled, "you put this on your blog and you put my family in danger and I swear to God-"

The brunette pushed him away in a haste. "We're on the same side, Vince!"

"How many cops did you rat out? I lost count," the vigilante countered.

"Dirty cops!" Orwell spat back.

They met with each other's eyes, a tension coming in between them that was so thick that it could be cut with a knife.

"Dirty cops, I wasn't," Vince glowered down at her shorter level. "You ruined my life."

"I just thought that you might want to know who it is you're working for," the blogger fought back.

"Yeah. Thank you. I found out, alright!" the vigilante shouted, stalking away from the brunette.

"So this is for real?" Orwell asked, her face lightening up. "You're fighting back?"

Vince watched as the woman drew closer to him. All of a sudden, she looked happier. Huh, well he couldn't really blame her. She was probably really lonely.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked as he gained control of his thoughts again.

The brunette blogger took in his ridiculous outfit. "Why the get-up?"

"I have my reasons," Vince responded firmly. "It's an unconventional war."

"I want to help you, Vince," Orwell began, her determination shown through her mannerisms.

The vigilante frowned and corrected her, "I'm the Cape."

"Cape, fine. I'm invisible to them and I have to stay that way. But you," she took him in with a tiny smile, "you can be a symbol. And trust me, I can help you hit Peter Fleming where he's weakest."

Vince was quiet. It was all good down on paper, but should he really agree to this?

"Together we can scare him. Together we can take this city back," Orwell added, looking back at him expectantly.

The Cape quickly agreed to this. Two was better than one, right?

-0-

Vince and Orwell hadn't had that much time to get to know each other before the vigilante got a phone call from the carnival.

In fact, he was just getting into prodding her for information when the call came in.

Apparently Max was in trouble. ARK took him away from the carnival and brought him to the Lady Luck ship on the docks where Chess was to deal with him. There was no doubt in Vince's mind that Fleming wanted Max dead.

Before he left, Orwell handed her partner a communication headset and said, "got your back." Vince gave her a gentle nod as a thank you before going to rescue his mentor.

-0-

When Vince got to the ship, he found Max running from ARK troops. He was nursing three different chest wounds, which worried the vigilante.

The ARK troopers had Max in a corner, to which Vince yanked them out of the way with his cape. This gave him some time to get Max out of there. The Cape wrapped an arm around his mentor, glancing at him warily.

"Max, try not to talk," he whispered to the magician.

"I'm the one dying here. I like to talk," Max weakly smirked back at the sandy blonde. "What you said about your boy stayed with me. Showing him one man can make a difference," the magician shook Vince lightly as he continued, "you take it from a man who never knew his father, or never had a son. That bond is what makes heroes. I wanna say something profound, last words and all, but," he broke the tense mood with a chuckle, "God I need a drink."

Vince stared back at his mentor, his Adam's apple getting caught with a lump in his throat. "Max," his eyes grew wide as he saw his mentor close his own eyes. Was it really over with?

The magician thought it was. He was exceptionally surprised when he peeked an eye open to see Vince. "Dammit, I thought that was it!"

The Cape stared back in shock and grinned lightly as he helped Max up.

"And I wasted that great speech," the magician grumbled.

-0-

Meanwhile, Chess was cooking up another one of his plans. He planned to blow up an entire shipment of L-9 in hopes that the citizens of Palm City would be so scared that they would be begging for ARK to fully take over. All it would take was one punch of a button on Fleming's cell phone.

Lucky for Vince, he managed to hear that. Not so lucky for him, however, he was caught in the process. The criminal snatched a gun from one of the troopers and tried to shoot at the vigilante. Vince was able to dodge the bullets and get away from him. He had to get the word out somehow…

As he slipped away from the action, he spoke to his partner through the headset, "Orwell, I need you to jam all cell phone activity within 500 feet."

"Got it," she replied as she went to work.

Chess caught up with Vince and started a fight with him. Uppercuts, jabs, and kicks were all being thrown between the two men.

The vigilante was thrown down to the ground, to which Chess picked him up and dangled over the side of the ship. Vince struggled to breathe as he was being strangled by his own cape.

"I'll find out who you are," the villain began darkly. "I'll find out who you love. I'll make them _scream_." As he finished that last threat, he swung Vince back over to the deck.

Vince frowned as Chess brought his phone up and pressed the button to detonate the bombs. Much to his annoyance, _nothing _happened.

"No bars?" the vigilante smirked. He snatched the phone out of the villain's hand with the cape, instantly having to fight Chess again.

However, the sound of helicopters hovering over the ship were enough for Chess to not get any revenge. He quickly shot a look back over at the Cape before jumping overboard.

Vince shook his head in disbelief. Really? Maybe the helicopters could have come in a little more discreet? That way, he could have gone home!

Then it hit him. _He _had to get out of there now. Before anyone else could spot him, he ran off of the ship and to more isolated ground.

Orwell smiled down as she spoke to her partner. "You did good out there, Vince."

The vigilante couldn't help but smile as well. "Yeah, you too, Orwell. But now you're the mystery. Who are you, anyways?"

The blogger closed out of her computer screen, her smile faltering in an instant. "No one special," she answered lightly.

Vince rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright, Orwell. I'll be back in a little while. I need to go visit my son."

"Your son?" Orwell asked with a perplexed expression.

"That's why I'm wearing this get-up in the first place. So I can talk to him," the vigilante smiled a bit.

"Okay," the blogger nodded. "That's really thoughtful of you."

"Yeah," Vince took in another deep breath. "I'll see ya later." With that, he disconnected the headset he was using.

Orwell stared out into deep space. She could already tell that this was going to be a problem. He had ways of making her talk. And, God knew, she had many secrets to spill.

**Again, this is where I give you my pitiful kitty eyes. Let me know what you thought. **


	2. Tarot: Progression

**Finally, after much delay, I bring you a new chapter!**

**Many thanks to XxDeathStarxX and IronAmerica for their reviews last chapter.**

**I do not own The Cape, nor do I own Trauma Team.**

_**Second Chance- Chapter Two- Tarot: Progression**_

_*Flashback*_

"_Mr. Fleming, this is one of the sweetest little girls you will ever meet. However, there is something that I need to warn you about," the head of the orphanage began warily._

_This was the day that Rosalia was adopted. The paperwork was almost all the way filled out when the director had spoken._

_Fleming picked his head up from the clipboard in his lap. "Is there a problem?"_

"_Well, it seemed to have been a problem for Rosalia's previous foster parents," the director began, a sigh escaping her lips._

"_Let's hear it, then," the billionaire responded, crossing his arms as he did so._

"_Rose is a sick little girl. The doctors called her an asymptomatic carrier. There's really no telling what she has; her foster parents would always drop her back off to her previous orphanages before the doctors could tell what was wrong with her," the director spoke solemnly._

_*End Flashback*_

Fleming looked back at the medical personnel that he hired strictly for ARK. They were all scattered about the lab, working on his adopted daughter's case_._ Those fellow scientists and doctors worked endless hours trying to figure out what none of the others could. The billionaire paid them good money to work efficiently. He would be rather disappointed if they came back to him with more questions than answers.

"Well," Peter prompted in a slight murmur, "Did you get the transfer samples from the hospital like I asked you to?"

One of the doctors, a tall, raven-haired woman with piercing blue eyes stood up straight from the microscope that sat in front of her. "We did. Unfortunately, we cannot confirm or deny the existence of an unknown pathogen living dormant in Rosalia's body."

The billionaire sighed and crossed his arms. "That isn't what I want to hear."

"We're doing all that we can, Mr. Fleming. It took us about a month to get the blood culture samples from the other hospital," the female doctor began, her tone firm. "Diagnosis takes time. Especially with lab results."

"I understand that," Peter responded, a bit too quickly. He massaged his temples, hoping to keep Chess contained for a little while longer. There was so much going on. Worrying about Rosalia. Trying to persuade the secretary of prisons over to hand his prisons over to ARK. (Chess had plans for Secretary Portman, if he wasn't willing to cooperate. In fact, it didn't matter if he was going to cooperate or not. A poisoner by the name of Cain had already been contacted.)

"Mr. Fleming?" the raven-haired doctor spoke. Judging by her tone, she must have called his name before. As the billionaire looked back at her, she was able to continue.

"We're going to do all that we can, even though nothing can be promised," she added.

Fleming frowned. This wasn't what he wanted, but it would have to do for now.

-0-

Vince wasn't known for his genius plans. He always meant well when he came up with them, however. Orwell didn't know the vigilante well when he came up with his first plan. She almost told him to can it entirely. He should've thrown himself in front of traffic; _that _would have been a better idea than what he had in mind. Nevertheless, she still let him go on with his plan. That being said, the brunette made sure to follow him in one of her many fancy cars. If Vince was going to get himself killed, it wouldn't be on her watch.

The vigilante's _ingenious _plan was to head to ARK Towers and try to get as much information as he could about Fleming's plan to take over the prisons. This would take stealth and calm. Orwell could only hope that he would do this without being caught.

-0-

Vince found Fleming's virtual computer screen and keyboard rather quickly. Before looking through it, he shot a glance behind him; so far, he had snuck in without setting off any of the alarms. Oddly enough, Fleming's penthouse was just as big as ARK itself. There was way to tell if he would remain alone for the remainder of his venture. The vigilante went back to the virtual screen and busied himself as he went through the billionaire's files. Only a few things stuck out in his mind. One was a picture of a younger Peter standing next to a child. This little girl had wavy brown hair and looked awfully familiar.

The next thing that stuck out in his mind was a picture of Patrick Portman. A file was attached to that, which contained a picture of a Frenchman with long jet-black hair. Under his picture was a blurb. That man was Cain, a convict that was hired to murder the secretary of prisons.

What the hell was going on here? Wasn't ruining one life enough? Vince began to get lost in thought, which was prematurely stopped by the sound of scuffing feet and a little yawn.

The sandy blonde cut the monitor off and whirled around to face the sounds coming from behind him.

It was eight-year-old Rosalia. She had heard Vince rummaging around and thought that Mr. Fleming was up, or maybe it was that man with the scary black hair…

Vince spared the blonde a tiny smile. In turn, he was just stared at with her wide pink eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked, timidly.

The vigilante bit down on his lower lip. He had to think of something and fast. Of course she wouldn't believe that they had met before. She knew Vince, not the Cape.

"I'm a friend of Mr. Fleming's," he lied coolly.

Rosalia cut her eyes over at the sandy blonde. "How come I've never seen you before?"

Damn! Why did she seem like a mini Orwell all of a sudden? He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the room being brought to life with light.

Standing in the doorway was a very tired looking billionaire. At first he only saw his adopted daughter.

"Rosalia, what on earth are you doing up at this hour-" he frowned as he finally saw the sandy blonde. He darted his eyes back to the younger blonde. "Get back to bed, _now_."

The child nodded nervously and hurried out of the room, still a little disoriented from lack of sleep.

Once Peter and Vince were alone, the older man shot him a glare.

"And who the hell are you?" the billionaire retorted. He knew exactly who he was, but it wouldn't hurt him to play dumb.

"Hello Peter," the vigilante swung his cape out to grab the older man and pull him closer. "Did you miss me?"

"Take anything you want," Peter answered in a shaky breath. "Just don't hurt me."

Vince tightened his vice grip around Peter. "Don't play innocent with me, Chess."

"I'm just a business man," the billionaire began, trying to pull away from the caped vigilante.

"No, _you _are a psychopath," the Cape bored a hole into the back of Fleming's head. He ruined _everything. _All because of his selfish acts!

"Well, people in glass house," Peter prompted, his tone regaining power.

"Get thrown out windows," Vince sneered.

From out of nowhere, it seemed, a knife came at the sandy blonde and struck him in the chest. Vince looked down to inspect it, automatically feeling weaker. He ripped it out of his chest and dropped to the floor.

It was soon after that, that the one who wielded the knife was revealed. Cain showed himself, looking down upon his victim with a sick grin.

"Did you really think that I would let you get this close to me, unless I _wanted _you to?" Peter questioned, his innocent act completely dropped. "I thought you had something. I thought this was going to be fun!" he spat back at Vince. As the vigilante tried to scramble to his feet, the billionaire looked back at Cain.

"Cain? Tell him what he's having tonight," the CEO requested.

The younger villain stepped closer to the vigilante as he spoke, "A Strychnine glaze. Goes down well, without the seizures. A fast death, balanced with just a pinch of red dart frog toxin to suffocate the lungs." As he finished, he was kneeling before his victim, smirking victoriously.

"Sounds delightful," the billionaire grinned. "I've paid your masters well, Cain. Don't disappoint me."

For Vince, the whole world was spinning. All he knew was that he had to get out of there. Using all of the strength that he could, the vigilante hurdled himself towards the large glass windows and crashed through it, falling for what could have been his death. If it hadn't been for his cape softening the fall, the crash into a parked car would have been fatal.

As the car alarm began to shriek, Vince knew then that he couldn't move.

Orwell had witnessed his fall, and her nurse instincts took over. Her licensed nurse degree didn't mean crap if she couldn't save her partner's life. She sped up in her car and stopped in front of Vince's toppled form. As she ran ahead to pull the vigilante into her arms, her heart was racing a mile a minute.

"What the _hell _were you thinking?" she snapped, taking him over to the passenger side of her vehicle.

Vince may have been slipping in and out of consciousness, but he saw the brunette's sleek black car and slurred a reply, "Nice ride."

They were both inside the car within seconds. However, just as Orwell was about to drive off, Cain broke the window of the driver's side and tried to grab the blogger.

She caught a glimpse of his tattoo that started at his wrist and went on to his forearm. It was of a tower, which was bizarre. She _knew _it from somewhere…

"Go," Vince encouraged his partner, "Drive!"

The brunette put the car in reverse and stomped on the pedal, the car instantly backing up so she could do a full turn around to escape from ARK Towers.

Vince held onto the door handle; as if he didn't feel woozy enough with the poison in his system, his partner had to drive like a bat out of hell.

Orwell grinded her teeth together as she raced for her hideout. What she didn't do to save his ass…

The car ride was silent for a moment or two. Finally, though, the brunette couldn't take it anymore.

"What were you thinking? You're lucky I followed you! How about a little warning next time? I thought we were partners!" she griped, glaring over at her partner.

Vince tried to reply, only to feel a blockage in his throat. He let out a few miserable, drawn out groans instead.

"What's going on?" Orwell glanced over at the vigilante. Something wasn't right. If he didn't get medial attention soon… No, she couldn't think that far ahead.

"It's poison," Vince strained his voice as he spoke. "I can't breathe."

The brunette's heart dipped. "Who did this to you?" she asked, trying not to sound panicked.

"Fleming called him Cain," the vigilante rested his head back against the passenger seat. Hey… since when did everything look so blurry…?

Orwell resisted the urge to roll her eyes. God, this man was going to be the death of her! "I thought you were better than this, Vince!"

Great. Now she was starting to sound like Dana. "Can't we just talk about this later?" he asked weakly.

"There won't be a later! We'll never get that close again," she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "If you weren't poisoned I could kill you!"

Vince finally looked through the windshield, his vision incredibly blurry. "I didn't mean to get caught."

Orwell groaned. "Well you did. The plan was to get in and get out. You can't let distractions get to you!"

Something had distracted him. It was Rosalia. He contemplated whether or not to tell his partner about the child. Vince glanced over at her, noticing a solid frown tug at her lips. With that, he decided that he would wait.

-0-

The blogger carefully sat her partner on her queen-sized bed. As she looked down at him, she frowned at the bead of sweat that collected on the crown of his head. She was really worried about him. By the time they had made it to her hideout, the vigilante had pretty much passed out. She had no idea what he ingested, or how _much _he had ingested. The nurse hurried over to her shelves of medicine in the very back of her hideout. There were thousands of poisons out there; what if she gave him the wrong thing?

Her eyes danced across the top shelf, a solid frown tugging at her lips. She wasn't taking him to the hospital, or anyone else, for that matter. She had developed… feelings for this man, and felt protective over him.

Orwell let out a deep sigh and massaged her temples. There had to be _some _way to get the poison out of his system.

When it finally hit her, it was like a slap in the face. Charcoal was good for absorbing poison in the blood. It was purely coincidental that she bought a bag just for the hell of it.

The brunette nurse picked up the bag of charcoal and hurried back to her partner. He was barely awake when she came up to him.

"Hey," he rasped out, smiling weakly.

"Ssh," Orwell whispered. "You're weak. Try not to talk, okay?"

Vince nodded, to which he felt the bed dip under his partner's weight. They met with each other's eyes, smiles tugging at their lips.

"I'm going to need you to do something. You aren't going to like it, but I can't help that," the brunette began calmly.

Vince let out a weak groan. "Is this payback?"

"No. It's something that will help you feel better. Now sit up for me," Orwell spared her partner a smile and helped him sit up.

The vigilante was fed the charcoal and immediately felt the need to gag. That was bitter as hell! He was quickly overcome by a few convulsions, but they didn't last very long.

The brunette nurse took in the sandy blonde with nervous brown eyes. She still had an arm wrapped around his shoulders, but neither of them seemed to mind. "Is that better?"

"I'm just exhausted," Vince groaned.

Orwell spared him a light smile. "Lay back and get some sleep."

The vigilante sent her a skeptical look. "Are you sure that's okay to do?"

"Just trust me," the blogger and her partner locked eyes. Orwell tried to keep a blush from burning at her cheeks, but it didn't work so well.

Vince didn't even try to protest. He was tired and sore as crap. What would a little sleep hurt?

The nurse knew that she shouldn't watch him doze off, but she really couldn't help it. If she hadn't forced herself to go make a pot of coffee, the brunette probably would have curled up with Vince to take a nap of her own. As peaceful as that may have been, there would have been repercussions for that one later.

-0-

God knew how many hours later, Vince woke up. He had a throbbing headache that was reserved for a hangover, and his body was still sore, but he didn't feel like he would keel over any minute.

The vigilante groaned as he picked his head up from his partner's lavender scented pillow. He got up and padded out of the room, ignoring his sudden wooziness.

Orwell caught the sandy blonde coming into the room from the corner of her eye. "Well, look who it is."

Vince gave a light wave and plopped down on a chair next to her. She was hacking into…something. It was too much like work to think about it.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse questioned, carefully watching her partner.

The vigilante let out a groan. "I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck," he rubbed a hand over his face before looking back at the blogger.

"You fell from a tall story building, after being poisoned no less, and hit a car on the way down," Orwell spared him a light smirk, "It's normal for you to feel like crap right about now."

Vince sighed, leaning against the back of the chair. "Are you going to tell me how you knew what to do last night?"

"Maybe I'm some cyborg with a mega internal hard drive?" the brunette threw back at him in a whisper.

That would explain the whole blogger thing, but it sounded too much like a sci-fi movie. Vince met with his partner's large brown eyes and passed her a knowing look. "Or maybe you're not telling me all there is to know about you, Orwell?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the brunette passed him a smile before reaching for a bottle of aspirin that sat on her desk.

Vince watched as she popped the top and took two pills out of the bottle. "What are those for?"

"For you, dummy. Here," she placed both pills in the palm of his hand, "take these and I'll go get you some water."

The vigilante bobbed his head and waited only a few more moments before she came back with a bottle of water. He took the bottle into his grasp and unscrewed the cap to chug down the aspirin.

"There. That should take most of the pain away," Orwell sat back down with a light sigh and turned her attention back to the computer.

Vince studied her closely. She sounded like his mother, or his doctor. As that thought left his mind, he leaned over his knees and began with, "So, I need to talk to you about what happened before I was poisoned."

The brunette turned her body to face him. "Okay. So talk."

"The guy who poisoned me wasn't there for a slumber party. He's been hired by Fleming to kill Portman," Vince responded.

"I'll do some digging and see what more I can find about this," Orwell replied, her determined eyes locked on him.

"What do you want me to do?" Vince asked.

"Just sit here and rest," she passed him a pointed look before turning back to her computer. "I can't help but worry that you're going to do something stupid if I let you go."

"Orwell, I can't just sit here and do nothing," the vigilante rose to his feet. "What good am I if I just sit on the sidelines?"

The nurse sighed. "Fine. Just don't do anything reckless. I'll work on finding more about Cain my way, and you can work on it your way."

"Alright," Vince breathed out, "I can do that." He went to leave when his partner spoke again.

"Oh and when were you going to tell me about Fleming's adopted daughter?"

"I thought you knew…?" the vigilante questioned.

"Of course I did. I just thought that you would talk about how big of a problem it was to have her there with him," Orwell raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a mother and yet I'm worried about her."

"Should we work on getting her out of there?" Vince asked, padding back to his partner.

"She'll be safer with us, that's for sure," the brunette replied with a light sigh.

The sandy blonde nodded. "We'll work something out. I'm not one to let a kid suffer, you know that."

"I know, Vince," she smiled. "Call me if you find anything?"

"I will. Same goes with you," the vigilante passed her a gentle smile before finally leaving the room.

-0-

Vince and Orwell worked their tails off to keep Cain away from Patrick Portman. The nurse visited the secretary of prisons in his office, which was a life saver. Cain had gone there undercover, most likely looking for trouble to get into.

Vince worked on gathering more information on the planned murder of Patrick Portman. He asked around the city, but could never exactly find what he wanted.

Wearing just the mask he made earlier that day, a hoodie and jeans, the framed cop traveled through the outskirts of Trolley Park, looking for answers.

-0-

The sandy blonde aggressively pressed a man against the wall of an outside area in Trolley Park. He searched through his pockets and retrieved a wallet. Looking at the man's ID card, Vince finally had a name playing at his lips.

"Look Linus," the former cop spared the man who was pinned against the wall a pointed look. "Linus, really?"

"Screw you!" the man fought back.

"Whatever, I want to hear what you know about the hit on Patrick Portman," Vince demanded roughly. "And if you don't talk, I'll tell everyone from Scales to Johnny the Bull that you did talk. You talked smuggling, you talked L-9; anything else I can think of you just sang like a little boy star soprano, you dig that?" Vince retorted.

"Alright! But not here, meet me at The Bottoms. It's a bar," Linus responded. "Midnight."

"I know it," Vince murmured before letting go of his captive. He leaned against the wall and looked back at the few guys he had knocked out beforehand. As if on cue, he heard heels clicking, the sound echoing throughout. That sound could only belong to his partner.

Orwell clacked across the ground as she made her way towards the sandy blonde. On her way through, one of the two men that were toppled on the ground began to stir. As he reached for a baseball bat, the brunette kicked him with her long, bare leg.

The vigilante shut his mouth with a solid click. Was it just him, or did she always look like she was strutting down a runway?

"That was a good lead you just threw back into the ocean," Orwell began with a light smirk.

As Vince regained his composure, he lifted his hands up in defeat. "Yeah, well thanks for the get well card."

Why was that familiar? Oh yeah; the blogger took a black glove off her hand and dug into her sweater pocket. "Speaking of that," she began, pulling out a card.

The vigilante stared back at his partner as she flashed the card. 'The Tower'; what in the world was that? "What, are you trying to read my fortune now?"

"Cain has this symbol tattooed on his arm," Orwell began, her wavering brown eyes taking him in carefully. "The Tower, one of the major Arcana of the Tarot."

"Well good, that'll make him easier to ID," Vince replied as he walked away from his partner.

"No, Vince. What I'm saying is that Cain isn't just some ARK mercenary for hire. This tattoo? It could be the first confirmation of the existence of the Tarot," the nurse replied, slowly but sharply.

The vigilante suddenly felt like his partner was speaking Japanese or something. He had to sit down. "Okay. Maybe it's just because I've been hit by a few baseball bats, but _what _are you talking about?" He took off his mask and waited for a response.

"A secret society of killers. I think Cain's their poisoner," Orwell began, stepping closer to the vigilante.

"I think I would have heard something about this when I was a cop," Vince replied, still in disbelief.

"You've never faced anything like this as a cop, I can promise you that," the nurse said, prompting a sigh from the sandy blonde.

"And Peter Fleming is just the gift that keeps on giving," the vigilante groaned, running a hand against his face.

Orwell took in an inward breath. He had no idea. "So, how are you feeling?"

Vince shrugged and took his hands off his face. "I wanna go home and hide under a mountain of blankets."

The brunette smiled. "Well, I'm afraid that you can't go home just yet. But you can stay with me for a little while longer, if that makes it any better."

The sandy blonde spared his partner a tiny grin. "Yeah, that sounds good. We've still got some planning to do, anyway."

Orwell grinned lightly, to which Vince had to take a moment to recover a moment from the radiant beam.

-0-

"No, it was Cain. I'm sure of it. When I went to The Bottoms, I barely got a word out of Linus. He foamed at the mouth, and when I looked around the room, _everyone _was dropping dead." Vince was explaining his midnight venture to Orwell.

"He must've found out that you were looking for information. Either that or it was just pure coincidental," the blogger replied. She and the vigilante were sitting on the couch in her hideout, a blanket draped around the both of them.

"Yeah, and I don't think it was much of a coincidence, here," the sandy blonde looked back at his partner, their eyes locking in a stare.

"Which means you need to be careful. If he's as quick as we think he is, this could get us in a lot of trouble," Orwell spoke, twirling her wavy brunette hair with an index finger.

Vince turned his body to face the nurse. "The only thing I got out of Linus was something about tomorrow night. Tomorrow night, something goes down."

The brunette had a light bulb go off in her head. "Tomorrow night…" she murmured under her breath as she got up and padded to her computer.

"Everything okay, Orwell?" the vigilante asked, his brow knitting together in confusion as he watched the nurse.

"Tomorrow night, Patrick Portman and Peter Fleming have a dinner reservation at Oyster Bar," the blogger began, her voice calm and stern.

"Which means that our friend was right, after all," Vince responded, making his way over to his partner.

Orwell let out a sigh and looked up at the sandy blonde. "We've got out work cut out, but it'll be worth it."

-0-

At around 7 PM, Oyster Bar had been closed off to make way for the bigwig dinner reservation. The door attendant that stood between the main lobby and the dining area claimed that the bar was already full. However, Orwell knew better.

The nurse had many aliases from her various blogs; all of them had their own degree of importance, which came in handy for situations like this. Anna Orlando, blogger of the famous _Taste Buds, _was sure to get in the restaurant without a second thought.

And, in fact, she was right. Orwell got into Oyster Bar quickly. The brunette was seated in a table diagonally across from Portman and Fleming. As soon as the door attendant walked away from her, she pulled out her cell phone and sent a text message to her partner. The sooner he could get there, the sooner they could keep Portman from his assassination.

The nurse lifted a butter knife from the table and looked through the mirrored utensil to inspect what was going on at the table diagonally across from hers. So far, Fleming and Portman were just talking. A light smirk pulled at her lips; the secretary of prisons surely didn't look happy to be there.

The brunette was caught off guard by who she assumed was just a regular chef. However, she was mistaken when she caught sigh of the chef's tattoo. _That _was Cain for sure.

The prisoner filled her glass with wine and studied her just as closely. "Have we met before?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.

"No," Orwell replied coolly, a fake smile plastered on her lips.

"You look very familiar to me," Cain let out a chuckle. "I think you remind me of my second wife."

The nurse had to resist the urge to cringe. He had three wives. _All _deceased.

"You write for a food blog, no? Why don't you be my guest in the kitchen?" Cain began.

Orwell held a hand up to protest. "I couldn't."

"I insist," the poisoner pried further.

The blogger finally gave up, bracing herself for what was next. As the two went in the kitchen, Orwell felt around in her bag for her trusty tazer.

Cain had apparently caught on to the resemblance of her aliases. He proceeded to lash out at her, seeing how she knew too much.

When her tazer failed, the nurse backed up slowly, keeping an eye on both her attacker and the objects that lay about. She used a tin pot and bashed his head when he got too close.

The prisoner took a knife from the counter and held it up in the air to the nurse who was still slowly backing away.

Once she realized that there was an entrance back to the dining area, she cut her eyes over at Cain. Had it not been for the Cape snatching the prisoner's knife away, Orwell would have been screwed.

Vince watched his partner skitter away, taking an apron with her along the way.

Cain turned around to face the vigilante soon after that. "You just never give up, do you?"

"It's my most annoying feature," the sandy blonde gave the villain a lopsided smile.

As Cain and Vince began to fight, the nurse decided to take some measures into her own hands. She swept by the table that Portman and Fleming sat at, careful not to show her face to the CEO, and took the secretary of prison's plate away.

"Sorry sir," Orwell called back softly as she picked up the plate.

"Um, excuse me!" Patrick began, to no avail.

Fleming frowned. What on earth was going on here? Surely, that couldn't have been…

The billionaire noticed his guest staring back at him. "I'm sure everything's under control," he tried to reassure the secretary of prisons.

The two heard what sounded like fighting and… screams? It was all coming from the kitchen.

Fleming's security told him that he should get out of there, but he refused to go. As the CEO hurried into the kitchen to see what was wrong, he noticed Cain tied up on the counter, and the masked vigilante smirking back at him.

Peter looked around for the young woman who had taken away the plate from Portman. He noted that she wasn't anywhere to be found, and took a look back at Vince. In the next second, he disappeared, leaving a puff of smoke behind him.

-0-

Later that night, Orwell heard the door to her hideout open, heavy footsteps following that. A smile graced her features; that was her partner for sure.

"Hey, Orwell," Vince called back, cupping a hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn. As he came up on her, he noticed that she was clad in her pajamas and was working with her laptop for a change. The vigilante plopped down next to her on the couch and asked, "You ever heard of rest?"

"Mmm," was Orwell's reply. "I could say the same for you."

The vigilante stretched out on the brunette's couch, putting his feet in her lap. "Good point."

The nurse cut her eyes over at him. "Really, Vince?"

"What? You hate feet or something?" Vince grinned.

The brunette sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know, you're so impossible…"

**And that concludes episode two. Reviews make the world go round; Trauma Center and The Cape fans alike!**


	3. Kozmo: Beginning

**Well what d'ya know? It's an update! I'd like you all to say thank you to Spring Break, 'kay?**

**And reviews, how I love them so! Many thanks go out to IronAmerica, XxDeathStarxX, and I Prefer Magneto for their reviews last chapter.**

**I do not own The Cape, or Trauma Team. **

_**Second Chance: Chapter Three- Kozmo: Beginning **_

Little Rosalia tossed her body onto the opposite side of her bed and let out a whine. She had been having terrible nightmares for about a week. They were all different, but there were some alarming similarities.

_Rose's dream most recently started up with her turning down a hallway in ARK. From the looks of it, she was heading for the lab in the basement area of the huge building. The doctors there were really nice, but she didn't like what they had to say about her health. The little blonde knew that she was sick. There was something living inside of her that was really bad, but her blood could be the cure to all diseases. The doctors took samples of her blood and ran numerous tests on them. Rosalia was worried that her blood would get the doctors, and even Mr. Fleming, sick._

_As the eight-year-old padded into the lab, she came up on a mess of bodies toppled onto the floor. In a panic, the pig-tailed blonde rushed over to the body of her head doctor and made an effort to flip her over._

_The doctor's raven hair stuck to the side of her face with the sticky blood that she vomited and coughed up. She murmured underneath her breath, which the child could barely hear._

_Rosalia picked her head up and looked over at one of the other doctors, who had started to cough up blood himself. He tried to elevate his body but was too weak to keep anything but his head up. The little blonde watched as the male doctor began to bleed from his eyes and nose. Within a moment, his eyes were completely black. Before Rose could take another breath, his head crashed back down to the ground._

_At that moment, the pig-tailed blonde couldn't think of anything. "What's going on?" she whispered to herself._

_The little blonde hoped to God that Mr. Fleming could shed some light on things. She got up from the ground and hurried out of the room, her heartbeat pounding in her chest._

_Rosalia got about halfway down the hall before she was stopped by the sound of her own voice. Her voice was hushed; it fluttered around the room with an eerie feeling that gave the blonde chills._

"_Beginning…"_

When the eight-year-old woke up from that particular nightmare, she had sweat beading at the crown of her head, practically hyperventilating.

Whatever that reoccurring dream meant, Rosalia knew that it couldn't be a very good thing.

-0-

In the outskirts of Palm City, Vince Faraday was still being his blockhead self. He came up with the genius idea to threaten an ARK trooper named Philips by hanging his body over a bridge above a busy roadway. The vigilante wanted nothing more than to get this little weasel to talk, that way, it would be easier for the both of them. However, Vince seemed to be irrational these days…

Orwell was listening in through the headset that she and her partner communicated through. She could also see him through her holographic monitor, which only got Vince into deeper water with the brunette.

The Cape, after being fed up with Philips, dropped him off the bridge. The ARK employee was lucky that a Mack truck had come by when it did. The trailer of the truck cushioning his fall averted Philips' impact with the ground.

The blogger fumed at this. Why was Vince so reckless? _"I thought you just said that you were just going to talk to him!" _she began.

"I didn't like what he had to say," Vince deadpanned, looking up into the camera that his partner hacked into. "Take me home now."

Orwell rolled her eyes. "_Take Sycamore Boulevard for about a half mile; it should give you a straight shot to the hideout."_

"Well, I can't just walk there, what if someone sees me?" Vince asked.

"_Just who do you think you're friends with?" _the blogger smirked smugly. _"I'm blocking all camera activity from here to there. Hurry, though, there isn't much time."_

The vigilante started to hurry down the road, his cape flowing behind him at the swift movements.

When Vince got back to the hideout that he and Orwell shared, he could tell that something was off. The lights began to blink repeatedly, as if the wiring just decided to give up out of random. Before he could go any further from the front entrance, the vigilante was grabbed by the neck of his cape.

Orwell stared back at him with an intense expression in place. Something told Vince that he needed to shut up and listen to his partner. She silently gestured with her head for him to follow her out of the hideout. The brunette had a bag in tow, but not much else.

"_What the hell is going on?" _The vigilante asked himself.

-0-

The blogger waited until they got to Trolley Park before saying much else. She looked like she had seen a ghost, or she had come close to the brink of death. Either way, all of this had given the Cape a sour feeling at the pit of his stomach. What could have happened in the ten minutes that it took him to get back to his partner's hideout?

Vince and Orwell approached Max before anyone else in the carnival. The vigilante caught him in one of his good moods, which was good for him.

-0-

"Hey, Max, can I bother you for a sec?" Vince asked nervously. His partner stayed close by him, not that the sandy blonde seemed to mind much.

The magician sat his glass of red wine down and quirked an eyebrow at his student. "What is it, Vincent?"

"I, uh, have a bit of a predicament on my hand," the vigilante began, revealing the petite brunette standing close behind him.

Max blinked and looked back down at his glass of wine. Did someone drug him? There was no way that Vince would be with a young girl like that. He was dedicated to getting back home, after all.

"This is my partner. She's been helping me with… well," Vince let out a light chuckle, "pretty much everything."

The magician looked to the brunette for confirmation. "And do you have a name, miss?"

"Julia," Orwell replied quickly, offering a hand out to the mentor. She had to come up with it fast. If anyone knew that her name was Jamie, she was as good as dead.

Max gently kissed the back of the nurse's hand. "Pleasure to meet you." He then looked back at Vince. "Vincent, what is this really about?"

"We need a place to stay, Max. It's only temporary. ARK found Julia's hideout and trashed it. Fleming is still working his ass off trying to find that Orwell guy and does everything in his power to search for him," Vince pleaded his eyes with the magician's.

Max sighed. "Fine. You'll have as long as you need."

The brunette nurse felt a sensation of relief wash over her. A moment or so later, she was guided out of the room. As they headed over to the other carnies to introduce them to Orwell, the vigilante gave her a quick hug, whatever the reason it was for was unknown. However, the blogger wasn't one to complain.

-0-

Peter Fleming sat at his desk and massaged his temples. He had just gotten off the phone with the team that had been looking for his daughter for years. What the head of the team had to say to the billionaire wasn't comforting. Initially, he thought that Jamie had fled to Europe. There were pictures gathered, as well as fingerprints, but Peter ruled that out entirely when he saw the images.

The CEO ran a tired hand across his face and drew out a sigh. He had been looking for his daughter for God knew how long, and it was starting to take a toll. Chess' comments weren't very reassuring either. As a matter of fact, his other half never had anything to say that wasn't condescending.

A little voice flooded into the room at that moment. The billionaire turned his chair around to see his adopted daughter standing in the doorway.

"You'll find her one day, Mr. Fleming," Rosalia tried again, this time with a little grin in place. "I think about finding big sis all of the time. We'll meet again, just like you and your daughter will!"

Peter sent a smile over to his adopted daughter. "Thank you, Rose. I do hope that you are right."

The little blonde beamed a smile and bobbed her head. She still had her nightmare fresh in her mind, but she tried to not let it get to her. After all, it _was _just a dream, right?

-0-

There were some things about the cape that Vince didn't know yet. He was aware of where it came from, and what is it capable of, but he didn't know the whole background to it. The cape had a dark side to it. Each of the wielders experienced some sort of darkness in them, but were able to tone it down for the most part.

The exception to this rule was Gregor Molotov. He was the most recent Kozmo and most likely the most dangerous and power hungry one, as well. Gregor committed numerous murders with that cape and was sent to prison for what he had done. Max thought that he would never have to deal with Gregor again; however, what he didn't know was that the convict escaped his Russian prison in hot pursuit for his cape.

-0-

The carnival was practicing for their next showing when Gregor decided to stop by. Vince and Orwell had pulled up chairs to act as an audience. Neither of them knew it when the convict entered the room.

Rollo was the first one to catch Gregor from the corner of his eye. "Hey! This is private property!"

Gregor just shrugged it off and headed for his mentor. At that point, all of the carnies, and Vince and his partner, stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold.

"Gregor Molotov," the magician prompted, surprised and a little frightened at the appearance of his incarcerated student.

"Max Malini," Gregor began with a wicked smirk. "You look great, Koz."

The rest of the group grew slightly dumbfounded when both men embraced. The look on Vince's face said everything that the others were thinking.

"I don't go by that name anymore. Around here I'm just Max," the magician replied as the hug was broken. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"You know why I'm here. I'm looking for my cape," Gregor spoke.

"I have no idea where that cape is Gregor. That thing has been missing for quite a while," Max lied coolly. There was no way he would give Vince up to this maniac.

"You promised me that cape, Max," the convict started, slowly losing his calm.

"I'll let you stay the night, but that's all that I can do," the magician spoke. Really that was all he would be willing to do. There was no way that an escaped prisoner would be welcome around in his home.

Orwell picked her head up and looked over at her partner. He was intently staring at the scene until he noticed her gaze on his. Their eyes met in that instant; this was going to be fun…

-0-

Vince knew that this Gregor guy was bad news. Even if he had been Max's student, nothing about him was settling in the very least bit. That night, Gregor had gone exploring around Trolley Park. The vigilante took it upon himself to keep an eye on the convict. He kept his hood up over his head and stuffed his hands deep inside the hoodie pockets. However, it didn't take long before Vince lost Gregor in a throng of pedestrians.

The vigilante knew it was a lost cause to try to meet up with Gregor. He just settled for walking about Trolley Park. He past a vendor with a bookshelf. While he didn't think that he would stop for anything, a particular thing caught his eye. It an issue of The Cape comic book. The framed cop grabbed a copy of it and paid the vendor before continuing on.

As Vince padded on, he came up to a back way for what looked like an abandoned, run down building. It didn't really phase the vigilante, though. He knew that he owed Orwell a new hideout. If it hadn't been for Philips calling for backup, ARK wouldn't have trashed his partner's place.

He snuck down into the window that led inside the building. Just as he expected, the place was run down. For now, it would just have to do. Besides, girls have the ability to bring any place back from the deep pits of Hell, right?

Vince flicked the lights on and inspected his surroundings. Yep. Orwell was going to kill him. The building was dark and almost cave like. There were so many different things scattered about that made it look like it was being used for storage. If his partner could make it seem like a home, he'd be surprised.

-0-

The next evening, Vince, Orwell and the carnival sat around at the dining table, much to everyone's dismay, with Gregor. There were three murders last night at Trolley Park and every cop cell in the vigilante's body pinpointed to Gregor. The convict didn't get back to the carnival until hours after Vince had on that night. Therefore, Vince had plenty of tick marks against Gregor.

Raia had cooked a feast fit for kings, as usual, and afterwards a bottle of alcohol was passed around for anyone that wanted it. Vince didn't take the opportunity to drink, mostly because he was ready to bust Gregor for murdering three people. And, the last time he checked, it wasn't easy to pin a bad guy if you were the drunk one.

"Are you not drinking?" Gregor countered the vigilante. Truth be told, he _was _the one to commit those murders. He spent his night playing a card game with three random guys, who he tried to get information from. Gregor did get his information, as a matter of fact. He found out that Vince had Max's cape and was using it for the good instead of the bad. When the goons were rendered useless, Gregor slit their throats with poker cards.

"No. It's my night to carry Rollo home," Vince deadpanned, looking over at the dwarf, who was chugging down the alcohol like nobody's business.

Gregor grew quiet once again. He had already shown off his over-flexibility, but there was something else that he could do to show off to the Carnival of Crime. He turned to Orwell and extended his hand out to hers.

"Palm readings were popular back home," Gregor inspected the blogger's palm closely, a smirk playing at his lips. "You've got a real live one here Max! Lots of attitude. Spoiled little rich girl, but not your ordinary princess." He looked at the brunette before him, "You've got real daddy issues. We both have something in common. We've both been in prison."

Orwell tried to snatch her hand away, but the convict tightened his grip. "I can't even tell who you are, because you don't even know yourself. But one thing's for sure, you are _not _Julia."

As Gregor released her hand, the nurse rolled her eyes and tucked her hand back under her chin. If he caused problems between Vince and herself, he'd be lucky to go back to prison alive.

The vigilante wasn't really sure if he believed Gregor, but he couldn't really throw it out the window, either. He barely knew anything about his partner. Vince stood up and began to pace around the table. Either way, Gregor wasn't getting away with his murders, not while Vince Faraday was still around.

"Three people were murdered in Trolley Park last night," the Cape began, his cop instincts kicking in again. "But you wanna know the strange thing about those murders?" He didn't get an answer, not that it would stop him anyway. "It was the murder weapon," Vince pulled a bloody card out of his hoodie pocket and approached Gregor with it.

"Funny right?" the vigilante grinned. "A card. So. Where were you last night, Gregor?"

"Might I ask you the same thing," the convict countered. He stared up at the sandy blonde's intense eyes and stood up soon after that. "You're a cop," Gregor concluded.

"And I put a hundred guys like you behind bars," Vince spat back.

"You gave my cape to a _cop_?" Gregor sent a glare back to his mentor.

"I gave it to no one!" Max corrected in annoyance.

"You're lying, Max! Just like you lied about prison! I know you're the one who sent me there…" the convict trailed off and turned back to Vince, "And you. You're just like me, with a badge. So save your soul, I've already lost mine."

"That ain't gonna happen," Vince began. In turn, all of the other carnies stood up in what was interpreted as a fighting stance. "The only place you're going is back to that Russian hell hole you crawled out of."

"I'll never go back there," Gregor growled before disappearing into a puff of smoke.

-0-

Gregor had one last request, and that was for revenge on Max. Just before their next show, he tied the magician up and threw him into a full tank of water. And just so no one else could get in the way, he tied up Rollo, Ruvi, and Raia and made an easy access for their tigers to attack them. Luckily, for Vince and Orwell, they hadn't been at the carnival during that time. When they did come back, though, they were well aware of what the convict was up to.

He had started up the show and made it seem like _everything _was a part of the show. The crowd went wild because of this, but the brunette and her partner knew better than that.

Vince went to free Max, and Orwell went to free Raia, Rollo, and Ruvi. The blogger was safe, but Vince was knocked down by Gregor. The villain then took the sandy blonde's cape and slipped it on.

Up until that point, the audience still thought that this was a part of the show. It hadn't been until Gregor hit the light fixture above him that everyone began to scramble.

When the audience left the Carnival of Crime screaming for their lives, Gregor grabbed a hold of Orwell and pulled her closer. The brunette instantly thought that she would need to take about ten baths just to get his grimy stench off her.

"When I read your palm, I left something out. There will be no one to miss you when you're gone," Gregor snarled into the nurse's ear.

In that instant, Vince threw a punch at the convict, sending him toppling to the floor. He took back his cape and began to strangle Gregor with it. The vigilante almost couldn't stop himself. His adrenaline was pumping and it took a great deal of an effort for him to stop. Vince was frustrated and tired; every day it looked like he was getting farther and farther away from getting home.

The vigilante ordered the carnies to take Gregor out of there. It didn't really matter where they took him. All that mattered was that the Russian convict was out of his sight.

-0-

Peter Fleming stared down at his daughter's old jewelry box. He opened it up and smiled at the melody that played while the little ballerina inside the box began to twirl around. Jamie used to love to go to her ballet lessons.

A sigh drew from the billionaire. Where in the world did it all go?

Oddly enough, back at Trolley Park, Orwell seemed to be just like the ballerina in Jamie Fleming's jewelry box. She twirled in mid air as she worked on perfecting an aerial silk dance that Raia taught her.

-0-

"Vince, if I bump into something, this is your entire fault," Orwell teased her partner as she was being led into their new hideout for the first time.

"Why would I let you bump into something?" the sandy blonde grinned. "You gotta have more faith in your partner, Orwell."

The blogger rolled her eyes. "Alright, Vince. I have faith in you." Not that she had a problem with her partner tucking his arm over her eyes, but still…

Vince chuckled. "Thanks." He took his arm away from the brunette's eyes and waited for her to inspect her surroundings.

"Where are we?" Orwell asked curiously.

"Home sweet home, believe it or not," the vigilante replied, grinning proudly.

The blogger began to pad around the perimeter. Her arms were folded across her chest with an intent expression in place. "Well, it could definitely use some TLC."

Vince sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I had a feeling you would say that."

Orwell shrugged and threw a smile over her shoulder. "We'll work on it."

"It's the best thing that I could do. I was the stupid one who caused the ARK net to come by in the first place," the sandy blonde admitted.

The nurse passed her partner and patted him on the arm. "Good. And now you can let me have a decent night without you snoring up a storm."

Vince quirked an eyebrow as he watched the brunette. "You know that's nearly impossible."

"Oh no it's not. I'll get you one of those breathing apparatuses that keep you from snoring," Orwell began with a grin. When she noticed her partner's disbelieving expression, she continued with, "what? It'll work and I can finally work on my blog posts in peace."

The vigilante let out a chuckle. "Well, you'll be able to work on them in peace for a little while tonight, anyway. I'm going to see Trip again."

The brunette looked back at her partner worriedly. "Is everything alright?"

"He's getting into fights," Vince replied solemnly. "I wish I could be there for him, but…" he trailed off and ran a hand through his curly head of hair.

"Go on, Vince," Orwell spared him a tiny smile. "I'll be here when you get back if you still need to rant."

**Reviews are loved! **


	4. Scales: Surrogates

**Hi everyone! A new chapter is now in your grasp. Like all of the other chapters, the episode will not go exactly like it did in the show.**

**Many thanks to XxDeathStarxX and IronAmerica for their reviews last chapter.**

**I do not own The Cape or the "Trauma" series.**

_**Second Chance: Chapter Four- Scales: Surrogates**_

Peter Fleming had been quite the busy man. He was still "working" with Scales and his docks, (more so just scamming him for whatever profits he got with smuggling goods, but that wasn't the point). He was also trying to keep up with an eight-year-old, _and _trying to balance a gala on the monte-carlo train, which Rosalia talked him into letting her go to. She even talked him into wearing a sheriff's costume to the party; after all, the theme _was _heroes and villains.

With all of that said, Fleming had a lot on his plate. He planned it to a T, and still nothing could prepare him for what was to come.

-0-

When Vince heard about the news of the gala that Fleming was throwing, he wasn't really sure of what to do. If it hadn't have been for his partner, God knew what he would have done.

It started out with Orwell checking her blogs. The brunette sat on her couch with Vince, who was dozing off and on. He had his head resting against her legs, the brunette's feet folded underneath him as she worked at her laptop.

The vigilante had been sulking all day. Whatever was on his mind, he wasn't ready to talk about. However, what it was must have been big; Orwell had been used as Vince's pillow since they woke up this morning.

The nurse read the blurb to herself about the gala and smiled to herself. Vince would have _loved _to hear that. She looked down at her partner, who hugged her legs, almost like a little child would do. Don't over think it, the brunette mused as she fought a blush that threatened to burn into her cheeks.

Orwell felt one of her hands instinctively go to her partner's head. She gently began to twirl the curls that sat on the top of his head, even though she wasn't really sure why. That was how it had been since the two of them had started living together. The instinct grew greater almost every day; the nurse never knew that she would fall for a man so fast in her life, but she really did. They were friends, of course, but sometimes it felt like they were much, much more.

As Vince stirred, the brunette quickly detangled her hand from his curly head of hair, no matter how much she hated to do so.

"Good Morning, sleepyhead," Orwell began with a weak grin.

"Morning?" the vigilante murmured sleepily, "did I really sleep that long?" he noticed the fact that he was sleeping on his partner, but he really didn't seem to care much. Like Orwell, he picked up on the feelings that he had for her. He was trying to get home to his family, yes, but he wasn't sure where his partner would fit in afterwards. He couldn't let her go back to living by herself, that was for sure. But, how was he going to explain her to Dana? She definitely wasn't going to like the fact that they had mutual crushes on each other.

The brunette lowered her screen to her laptop and sent a meaningful glance back at her partner. "No. You only slept for a few hours."

Vince sighed in relief. "Oh thank God," he lowered his head back against the blogger's leg, which he didn't see a problem with. Friends could lean on each other, couldn't they?

Orwell didn't really have a problem with it, either, but she still was a little wary. She knew that the closer they got, the harder it would be to let him go. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked curiously.

The vigilante sat up with a groan, a somber gleam in his blue eyes. As he scooted onto the vacant cushion next to the brunette, he ran a rough hand across his face. "Not really," he glanced back over at her, to which he spotted the laptop on Orwell's lap. "Whatcha got for me, Orwell?"

The nurse looked back down at her laptop, almost forgetting about the gala in the first place. "Oh. Well, Fleming is hosting a gala on the monte-carlo train. Heroes and villains theme, so-"

"So, you wanna crash it?" Vince finished for her, not really catching where it was going just yet.

Orwell sent him a pointed look. "Vince, we're not going to crash it for any other reason; we're going to crash it so you can go home."

The vigilante turned his body to her, his sad eyes now eating away at her own. "And how are we going to do that?"

The brunette nurse let a smirk grace her features. "We'll figure out something…"

-0-

The vigilante wasn't sure how it worked out like it did, but he was out snooping at the docks again. He got a recording from one of Scales' men, which explained how Peter Fleming was royally screwing Scales over. It didn't take long for him to bring it back home to Orwell, who was busy getting things together for the gala later on that night.

When the vigilante walked into their hideout, the brunette was leaning over the table and black lamp with a masquerade mask in her hands.

"Hey, Orwell, you'll never guess what I found out," Vince began as he padded up to her. Their eyes met, which prompted that same tension from earlier.

"That you were a porn star in a previous life," the nurse quirked an eyebrow, "or were you a male stripper?"

The vigilante chuckled as he sat down next to her. "Maybe both. You never know."

Orwell swatted at his chest playfully. "Okay, seriously. What did you have to tell me?"

"So, you don't think I'd make a good stripper?" Vince joked, receiving an eye roll from his partner. "Alright, alright," he placed the recorder down on the table next to the blogger and hit 'play'.

"…_This is from all of us, ARK, Peter Fleming; we'll be _helping_ you out on the docks…"_

"And," the vigilante sighed, continuing on for the recording, "we're gonna screw you over and take out all of your money. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?"

Orwell looked over at her partner as the recording ended. "Well, I think we have our bait for later on tonight…"

Vince's expression turned into one of confusion. "I don't think I'm followin' you here."

The brunette looked back down at her mask and began fiddling with the feathers sticking out of it. "What do you think Scales would do if he found out that he was being ripped off by the same guy twice?"

"Wait; you're really suggesting that I go to the docks and convince Scales to go to the gala?" the vigilante asked, slowly understanding what his partner meant.

"It's only a suggestion, but if he finds out, I can guarantee you that Fleming will be found out by the end of the night," Orwell began slowly; as if she was trying to make Vince comprehend more than what she was saying.

Vince bored his eyes into her slightly tense brown ones. "Alright. I get what you're saying, I just dunno how well this is going to work out."

"It's simple, Vince," the brunette spoke matter-of-factly. "You just talk to Scales and wait for the fireworks to start. That's when I come in."

"With the camera thing?" the sandy blonde asked, looking over the mask that she was still playing with.

Orwell glanced down at what she was doing and let a lopsided smile cross her face. "It's called an acorn, and it rests in the feathers of the mask."

Vince frowned at that thought. "Why would you put it in the feathers?"

The blogger glared over at her partner and arched a brunette eyebrow. "Are you coming after my camera placement? 'Cause seriously, you do _not _wanna come after my camera placement."

"I'm just saying that if I saw a camera in your feathers, I'd shoot you on sight," the vigilante replied, passing her a stern look.

Orwell scoffed under her breath. "Why don't you shoot me now? I'll get ready faster," she added hastily as she got up from her seat. "If you don't like the set up, do the train recon by yourself," she dragged the feather across her partner's face, rather suggestively, before walking away.

Vince let out a sigh. As much as he would have loved to say something about her flirting, he had too much on his mind at that point. "I just need to know that this plan will work. I have to get Scales to out Fleming on that train tonight. Are you going to work with me or not?"

The brunette whirled around and stared back at the sandy blonde. Okay. Something really wasn't right with him. She arched an eyebrow and padded back over to her partner. "What is wrong with you today?"

The vigilante let out another sigh and held onto the table in front of him for some sort of a grip. He barely noticed as his partner placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but when he did, Vince met with Orwell's eyes. "Orwell, it's Trip's birthday," he strained out with a lump caught in his throat.

The nurse's eyes wavered back at the sandy blonde. Worriedly, she began, "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks," Vince spared her a tiny smile, despite the solemn tone that he spoke in.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Birthdays are overrated, anyway," Orwell smiled over at him and squeezed his shoulder before dropping her hand back into her lap.

"Not when you're turning ten," the vigilante frowned, looking down at the deep space before him.

Orwell leaned against the tabletop and watched her partner with a soft smile. "Are we brooding, or suiting up?"

The sandy blonde swallowed the prominent lump in his throat. "Both."

The brunette's smile turned into a sad one as she pushed herself off the table. "I'll leave you to it."

Almost like a reflex, Vince grabbed his partner's arm and bored his eyes into hers. "No," he added, beginning to choke up. "Please stay here."

Orwell sat back down on the table and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gently strumming her thumb against one. In turn, the sandy blonde leaned his head against her shoulder and tried to collect himself.

The sandy blonde took a minute to sulk in silence. His and the brunette's breaths were in rhythm. They met with the other's eyes, but didn't need to say a word. Their eyes said all that either of them would ever have to say.

It took Orwell's gentle voice to jerk Vince out of his trance. "Vince, come on, it's almost time to go."

The vigilante grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "I know," he sent her a tiny smile. "Thanks, Orwell. This meant a lot."

"What are friends for?" the brunette replied calmly, though something unsaid still hid behind her eyes.

-0-

Prior to meeting up with Orwell at the monte-carlo train, Vince went back to the docks to convince Scales to go to the gala. The visit was short, but amusing to say the least. The smuggler wasn't happy when he found out what Peter Fleming was doing to his hard-earned cash, which made him even more willing to show up at the gala unannounced.

The billionaire arrived at the gala with his head of security, Marty Voyt. Peter felt like a complete idiot because of how he was dressed. While he was the one who decided to listen to his adopted daughter, he wasn't going to blame her. If anyone asked, he was going to blame the idiot in PR…

Before anyone else knew it, Scales reared his head in the throng of people who awaited to get aboard the train. Orwell stood close by, watching the scene unfold. While she really didn't want to let her partner leave, she knew that she had to.

"Are you getting this?" Vince asked. He was watching Scales joke around with Fleming from a stairwell leading to where the passengers were all standing around. Of course, now they had a show to watch between the smuggler and criminal mastermind.

Scales had murmured under his breath to Peter that he knew of his criminal identity, and threatened to tell everyone around them if he didn't get to talk to Mayor Welkins about his new operation of smuggling raw materials across the city. The billionaire reluctantly agreed. The last thing he needed was to have the whole town hate him.

Among the others that stood around watching both criminals was the press. Flashing lights from the pictures that were being taken danced across Fleming's and Scales' faces as they interacted. The press thought that those two were friends, much to Peter's dismay. Scales, however, took the time to really mess with the billionaire. He played around and posed with him in a few of those pictures. The last picture of them was taken just before they boarded the train.

Vince had a good feeling about this. Scales would blurt out that Peter Fleming was Chess, and his name would be cleared. He waited for everyone else to board the train before getting on as well. Decked out in his cape and mask could mean trouble if Peter saw him, but everyone was wearing costumes anyway, so how bad could it be?

Just as the last of the crowd disappeared into the train, the vigilante something from the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Rollo in a conductor's outfit. The carnie looked around both ways before stepping inside of the train just as everyone before him did.

Vince shook his head in disbelief. This was just his luck, wasn't it? The only possible explanation for Rollo being on the train was that the Carnival planned on heisting it…

-0-

Rosalia had never been on a train before. The world was a big enough place for a little girl like her, but being on a crowded train made everything look ten times bigger. She stayed close behind her paternal figure as she watched everything with her bright pink eyes. Her costume made her look like a little nurse. The little dress had butterflies all over it, and her little purse had a red cross embedded into it. Her pale blonde hair spread about halfway across her back, giving her a much younger appearance than of an eight-year-old.

The little blonde stopped once her adopted father did. She peeked around his leg and inspected her surroundings carefully. Peter had led Scales over to the mayor to do something, but what that something was she wasn't very sure of. Her father greeted the mayor and the woman who he sat next to, who was known as Judge Preston.

However, as Peter left Scales to 'work his magic', little Rose didn't follow her paternal figure. She was too busy watching the smuggler himself, who she seemed to be more and more interesting as the seconds went on. Why did he have green skin? Was he related to the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz? He seemed funny enough. Maybe he had a daughter she could play with.

Rose watched as Scales sat down next to the mayor and began to talk to him. Of course, she couldn't understand a thing they were talking about. Cement? Construction? Docks? It would have been better if they spoke like the adults from the Charlie Brown cartoons.

What she did know, though, was that the smuggler didn't like what the mayor had to say. He had a hostile look in place, and his tone seemed aggravated. Whatever was going on couldn't have been all about hugs and puppies.

The little blonde was known to be very intuitive, just like any other child, but she wasn't aware of what was going to happen. Orwell had caught sight of the eight-year-old and had a bit of a panic attack when the smuggler started to get louder and louder. The nurse took in a deep breath of relief as he went back to the bar to get himself a drink.

Orwell grabbed Rosalia by the arm and gently led her to the seats that lined up against the train walls. Not a lot of people were sitting there at the time, much to the blogger's delight.

The little blonde looked at the brunette that had taken her away from the scene. Why did she look so familiar? Even with her masquerade mask on, she still looked incredibly familiar.

"Are you okay?" Orwell asked in a very maternal tone.

Rosalia nodded, still trying to figure out who this woman was. "What's your name?" she asked, sparing her a shy smile, "I'm Rosalia."

"Diane," the brunette replied, a smile on her lips as well. She didn't know what to tell her; she couldn't say Orwell, as that would blow her cover if Rose told Fleming. Even if she told her what her real name was, that too would blow her cover, even if she was just a child.

The little blonde beamed a smile. "That's a really pretty name!" Her name didn't ring any bells, so the eight-year-old just deemed it as a pure coincidence.

Orwell nodded gently. "I like yours more. Reminds me of a rose."

Rosalia grinned widely and began to swing her legs back and forth against the bottom of the seat she sat on. "I think that's why my mom named me Rosalia. Don't 'member much about her, but I remember the rose garden we had."

The brunette smiled to herself. She remembered her mother having a rose garden. Danielle Fleming died years ago, but that was something that she held onto. "My mom had a rose garden too. I remember it always smelt so nice whenever I would walk outside."

Rose frowned a bit. "I don't remember the smell, I just remember the colors. But I was really young when I became an orphan…"

Orwell noticed as the little blonde's legs grew still. "So," she began, trying to change to a more happier subject. "You're supposed to be a nurse, are you?"

The eight-year-old nodded and beamed a smile. "Uh-huh! Nurses are real nice!"

The blogger's heart began to swell; this was a real sweet kid, too bad she had to deal with Peter Fleming and his double as parents… "Well your little costume is adorable," she added with a smile.

Rosalia began to swing her legs again and spared her another grin. "I have a stethoscope, too!"

"You do?" Orwell asked with an amused little smile. Her eyes quickly darted across the room to check on Scales. In that time, the little blonde opened up her purse and grabbed the stethoscope she had stuffed inside. Once the brunette looked back at the child, she had the stethoscope in her ears.

"I borrowed this from the doctor at Mr. Fleming's work," the pink-eyed girl smiled shyly. "She's real nice."

"Do you like living with Mr. Fleming?" the blogger asked, her maternal tone coming out again.

Rosalia tapped at the metal part of the stethoscope, jumping back at how loud that was in her ears. "Well…" she paused for a moment to contemplate silently. "He's kinda weird, but I guess he means well."

Speaking of Peter Fleming, Orwell picked up her head to see him enter the room with a crowd of press behind him. Everyone was trying to speak over each other, and hundreds of pictures were being taken of the same pose. The brunette resisted the urge to roll her eyes; this was ridiculous.

She then patted the little blonde on her leg and spared her a tiny smile. "I'll be right back, sweetie."

"Okay!" Rosalia grinned as she watched the nurse get up from her seat and head over to the sea of press.

"Mr. Fleming!" One of the press members yelled over the others, "Why did you choose Palm City?"

Again, Orwell resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Because he wanted to gain power over a willing group who would just bend over at his every call?

Peter waited for the noise to die down a bit before he replied, "It's not that I chose Palm City, it's that Palm City chose me. It chose a lower crime rate and-"

"That's because of the sweeps!" Orwell spat back. "You round anyone up who even looks suspicious, throw them into illegal detention centers and bribe judges to sentence them. That's fascism!"

The billionaire blinked repeatedly, his eyes darting around the room to quickly think of something clever to throw back. Was it just him, or did that sound a lot like his daughter Jamie? "Wow," he chuckled, "looks like someone is reading the Orwell Is Watching blog. Word to the wise; a lot of misinformation in there."

The blogger shook her head and hurried back over to where Rosalia was. There were a lot of people between the two destinations; she could only hope that it would stay that way.

Peter pushed his way through the crowd; it wasn't very important that she could've been Orwell, but it was important that she could've been his daughter. However, by the time he had caught up with her, he had to face a bigger problem. Scales, who may have had one too many drinks, was yelling at the mayor like some mad man.

"You greedy li'l vulture! You won't be so smug when your port goes dark!" Scales shot back at the mayor, who was sitting next to Judge Preston in the line of seats.

"Mr. Raoul?" the billionaire called out. Not that it would really help any…

By the time he caught up with Scales, Mayor Welkins scowled over at the billionaire. "Peter, I have no idea why you brought this _thug _here, but if he is your friend-"

"He is not my friend," Peter replied, matter-of-factly, not aware of the glare that the smuggler was passing him. "If he is bothering you, I can have him ejected at the next stop."

Another glare. "You'll have _me _ejected?" Scales inquired.

The billionaire sent him a sidelong glance. "You heard me."

The smuggler scoffed in disbelief. "Alright. _Mayor. _Your Majesty. Ladies and Gentlemen. I'd like you to know that Peter Fleming is the notorious crime boss and murderer _known _as Chess!"

In that moment, Vince, (who was standing outside the door watching the scene unfold),

and Orwell held their breaths, whereas Peter had to deal with an accelerated heartbeat. However, both issues were soon taken care of when the room filled with laughter. The vigilante's and blogger's faces fell at that. Fleming, on the other hand, was probably doing a victorious fist pump in his head.

"This is all very awkward Peter. _Do _your job." Mayor Welkins reprimanded.

Scales' anger grew to an astronomical level. He swiftly collided his fists with the nearest ARK trooper and knocked him to the ground, stealing his gun.

The crowd watched him with wide eyes. Orwell was worried about protecting Rosalia, but when she looked back over at her, the brunette's heart dropped to her stomach. She was gone. Where could she have slipped off to?

Before the nurse could get up to find the child, the smuggler began to shoot at the rooftop, barking at everyone to line up against the wall.

Scales ordered his lackey, Noodle, to pass a bag around to collect everyone's valuables. If they didn't, there probably would have been a mortality count on that train.

After they had bullied everyone on the train, the smuggler and his lackey went to the very back of the train, where the carnies were stealing the exact same thing Scales was looking for.

-0-

Scales opened the door to the caboose, which was decoupled from the rest of the train. (This caused some real trouble with the rest of the train. It became a runaway and Vince and Orwell had to spring into action. More importantly, Vince had to work together with Fleming to get it to stop.)

What he didn't know was that Rosalia had been snooping around, and was now in the caboose with the criminals.

The smuggler saw Ruvi in the very back. He was bent over, trying to get the cash from the safe in front of him.

"Hey!" he shouted at the carnie, who picked his head up. "Get your filthy hands off my cash."

Max came up from behind him and hit him with the butt of the shotgun that he stole from Noodle. "Turn around. My God you're ugly." Scales reluctantly obliged, but looked like he was about to snap.

Rollo, who had been the first to see Rosalia, came up to the other men, surprised to see Scales standing there. "Hey Toto! How's that knee?" he taunted.

"You again!" Scales began roughly. "'M gonna play billiards with your head!"

"Bring it on, 'gater butt!" the carnie threw back.

"Enough!" Max yelled. He jabbed the gun into the smuggler's back again and spoke just to him, "get in the cage."

Scales froze for a minute. The cage was a sentence worse than death. What he dealt with as a childhood and older was a constant reminder of just how bad the cage really was. The scars carved onto his back were just a portion of this reminder. However, seeing as he wasn't the one who was wielding a gun, he decided to listen to the carnie.

Once he was inside the cage, Rollo closed it and made sure that it locked. "The next time we meet, I'm gonna make me a pair of boots outta you," the carnie taunted again.

"Nobody puts me in a cage!" Scales yelled before he started banging his head against the bars of the cage.

Max, who had a little panicked Rosalia waiting for them outside, left with Rollo and Ruvi. The cash was secured in a bag, which meant that they could go home.

-0-

Vince dealt with the runaway train with gritted teeth. While he knew that it would save hundreds of lives, he still didn't like that he had to work with Fleming to get it done. He had to lower the criminal under the train to cut one of the hoses that would instantaneously stop the train. While he did that, Vince had to fight every urge in his entire being that said to drop him. He couldn't wait to go home and rant to Orwell. That always seemed to make him feel better…

The hose was eventually cut, which stopped the train. After the train was stopped, there was a huge flood of people that came out of the woodworks to evacuate the train. Half of the passengers were kissing the ground once they got out; the other half weren't going to bother doing that until they were in the comfort of their own home.

Vince and Orwell went to the carnival shortly after leaving the train scene. The vigilante had to talk to Max, and Orwell knew she had to be there to keep her partner from doing something incredibly stupid.

The sandy blonde headed to Max's room in hopes to talk some sense into him. When he came up to Max, his mentor was counting cash and placing the dollar bills across his desktop. Vince held his breath as he watched the magician for a few moments. Max picked his head up and spared his student a glance.

"You make a living out of stealing people's money. What they've worked hard for," the vigilante replied slowly, as if he was just understanding this for the first time.

"This is news to you?" the magician asked, his eyebrows raised.

"No. But I keep letting myself forget that when you're helping me get where I wanna go. When it means something to you…" Vince added, losing his composure.

"Sometimes it does," Max replied before going back to counting his money.

The vigilante reached across the table and slammed his hand against it. This was not a good sign for the relationship between the Carnival of Crime and the Cape.

"We've got a new houseguest. One I think you and your friend might be interested in seeing," the magician began, seeing this as the perfect time to change the subject.

"What? What are you talking about?" Vince asked.

"Go find Julia. I'm sure she's already well aware of this houseguest," Max replied, a wise smile in place.

The vigilante picked himself up and hurried out of the room. Whoever this guest was, he wasn't sure if he should be happy that his partner was around him or her.

When he came up to Orwell, she had her arms around what looked like a child. The closer he got to her, the clearer the picture became. He saw the pale blonde head of hair sticking out from the crook of his partner's arm.

The brunette picked her head up and sent the sandy blonde a tiny smile. "Hey, Vince."

He knelt down in front of her and inspected the child who buried her face deeper and deeper into Orwell's side. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Raia says that Rosalia was in the caboose that was ejected from the rest of the train. They had been trying to talk to her, but she only talks to me," the brunette nurse replied with a sad smile. She began to rub Rose's back very gently and shushed her as she began to tremble.

"She's just scared," Vince replied just as gently as his partner did. He then looked down at the child and tried to reply to her, "Hey, Rosalia."

The little blonde knew that voice from somewhere. She picked her head up and showed her tear-stained face. "I- I remember you," she began weakly as her bright pink eyes wavered back at the vigilante.

"Yeah," he smiled gently. "From Fleming's office, right?"

Rosalia nodded and rubbed her eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, no, sweetie," Orwell hugged the child closer. "You're not in trouble."

"But, do you wanna go back home?" Vince asked. Not that he really wanted to take her back home, but he had to make sure that she was comfortable with them.

The little blonde burrowed her head into the blogger's side again and shook her head vigorously. "No. I like Miss Diane."

The vigilante sent a quizzical look up to his partner and mouthed the name to her.

"I had to," Orwell mouthed back.

Vince sighed and rose to his feet. One day he would find out her real name. He just hoped that it would be pretty damn soon.

-0-

The vigilante and blogger took Rosalia back home with them and settled her into her new home away from home. Orwell had a plan to legally take her from Fleming, but it would take a lot of time and patience.

The eight-year-old was tucked into bed by the sandy blonde and brunette. By the time her head hit the pillow, she was conked out into a deep sleep.

Vince and Orwell walked over to the table to take a breather. The vigilante had grabbed two beers and a beer cap opener on his way over to it. He now had much more on his mind than what happened today. He was now thinking of his son's birthday again.

The blogger had seen her partner place a roll of wrapping paper and his son's present on the table a few hours before they had left for the gala, but she wasn't sure that he was going to wrap it after the long night that they had.

Vince grabbed a bottle of beer, popped the cap and offered it to his partner, who accepted it with a smile.

"I was… off my game tonight," Orwell frowned as she took a sip of the beer.

"Oh maybe a little," the sandy blonde grinned playfully.

The brunette held her mouth open it a mocked-shock. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The vigilante chuckled, which caused his partner to scoff. "Look, I just had Scales out Fleming as Chess and everyone just laughed," his face fell as he shook his head and took a gulp of his beer. "I've got nothing."

Orwell passed him one of her world famous looks. "You've got Scales and Fleming at war. The secretary of prisons wants to be your _tonto _and you saved hundreds of lives. It may not get you home, but it's not nothing." She watched her partner with wavering eyes. And you've got the woman in front of you falling madly in love with you…

With that thought slowly fading away, she added quietly, "After all that we've been through and you're still wrapping a birthday gift for your son," she looked down at the gift and up at him, "why do parents love their kids like that?"

Vince met his eyes with hers and replied gently, "they just do."

"Do you think that anything could make that love go away?"

"No," the vigilante replied, shaking his head. The two continued to stare back at each other, almost as if they were still talking. It drove him absolutely nuts that anyone other than Dana could make him feel this way. He was supposed to be concentrating on going to be with his wife and son again, not worrying about how much he was falling for another woman.

Orwell was the first to break the silent conversation. "Your kid's birthday next year you'll be home." She flashed him a smile, even though both of them knew that it wasn't a genuine smile.

"Yeah," Vince put everything down and turned to his partner. "And where are you gonna be?"

They fell into another tense silence. Every new second brought a more prominent urge for Vince and Orwell to kiss and get it over with. The vigilante really wanted to get home and talk to Dana before engaging in any romantic contact, but right now it was just too friggen hard!

The sandy blonde wanted to tell the brunette that he wanted to be with her. That he would be there for her whenever she wanted to tell him all about herself. But why did it hurt so much to feel that way? Why did he feel like he betrayed Dana when it wasn't his choice to fall in love again?

The nurse let out a breath that she didn't even realize that she was holding when Vince got up from his chair. They shared one last intense stare before he wrapped her into a tight hug. Neither one of them was keen on the idea of being in a relationship that would be frowned upon, even though they both knew that it was what they wanted. One day they could actually be together, rather than hide their feelings from the other.

Until then, these hugs would just have to do.

**Did I finally finish this chapter? Yes, yes I did! *feels accomplished* I swear, I didn't think that it would ever be done. A little unsure about this chapter. Drop me a line and let me know what you thought!**


	5. Confessions

**Finally an update! Had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. But after rewriting the story's plot, it should get easier. *crosses fingers***

**Many thanks to: XxDeathStarxX and IronAmerica for their reviews last chapter.**

**I own nada.**

_**Second Chance: Chapter Five- Confessions**_

It had been just a day since Vince and Orwell brought Rosalia to stay with them. While she seemed to respond to them well enough, they were fully expecting her to have a panic attack at any moment.

The blonde had been through this repeatedly, which was one of her main reasons for not freaking out just yet. Her adopted family would _always _take her back to the orphanage, without ever telling her. She was used to switching from family to family; it wasn't something that she liked, but she had to deal with it.

Rosalia knew the reason why no one wanted her. Being sick was against her, even though she had no control over it. She dealt with so many different people; it was almost the _norm _to switch homes so abruptly. The eight-year-old had herself convinced that Peter had planned that all along…

The blonde couldn't help but feel sad about it; Rose had dubbed it safe to say years ago that no one would want her, however, it still served as a slap in the face every time.

She appreciated Vince and Orwell taking her in, for whatever reason they did. The brunette did remind Rosalia a lot of Peter Fleming's biological daughter, Jamie Fleming. It was pure coincidence, though, her adopted father said that Jamie had been missing for years.

The child was broken out of her thoughts as Orwell's voice flooded into her head. She turned towards the nurse and smiled shyly.

Catching on quickly to the fact that Rosalia didn't hear her the first time, she tried again, "are you hungry? I can send Vince down to the diner to pick something up."

The little blonde perked up at the mere mention of the food. She hadn't been up for very long, but she could surely use something to eat…

"I'll take that as a yes," Orwell replied with a warm smile. "What would you like?" She and Vince had talked about Rosalia that night prior; she was away from Fleming… what now? The billionaire would be looking for his adopted daughter, just as the little blonde would be asking a million questions. She knew nothing bad about Fleming; it was only a matter of time before she asked why couldn't she go back home.

"It really doesn't matter, Miss Diane," the eight-year-old replied quietly.

The blogger felt a ping of guilt settle into her stomach. And how would she deal with knowing that the woman that took her in lied about her own name? Now _that _woulddefinitely be a hard pill to swallow. Maybe, just maybe, she could get Rose to understand why she did it.

"How about I send Vince to get you a hamburger or something? Kids like those, don't they?" Orwell asked gently.

Rosalia beamed a smile. "That would be great! Thank you!"

The blogger bobbed her head. The little blonde, who ran over to Orwell and wrapped her tiny arms around the brunette's thin frame, caught her off guard.

"You're welcome, sweetie," the nurse whispered down at her and returned the warm embrace. It lasted for several moments; she remembered being this affectionate as a child. Either her mother or her father would be occupied, but she would still curl up with them and snuggle to her heart's content. But, after her mother died, she became withdrawn. Orwell could only imagine how withdrawn little Rose felt. The blogger understood and wanted her to know that she would always be there for her.

Vince came in just in time; the brunette and blonde had just broken apart from their hug. The older girl saw her partner and spoke up, "hey, you're just in time," with a smile.

The vigilante rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "I didn't do anything, I swear."

Orwell arched an eyebrow, but carried on anyway. "I need you to do me a favor."

Relieved, Vince's tense body began to relax some. "Okay. What do you need?"

"Can you go downstairs to the diner and pick up something? Rose is getting a little hungry," the brunette replied, her genuine smile back in place.

"Yeah, sure," the sandy blonde nodded, a grin playing at his lips.

"Thanks," Orwell spoke, gently squeezing the little blonde's knee. "She said a hamburger would do just fine."

Rosalia didn't mind the extra attention. In fact, this was the most affection that she _ever _received in her life. It was nice, even though she had herself convinced that it was one of those "too good to be true" scenarios. Once Miss Diane found out that she was sick, she'd be in a new home once again, Rose mused to herself.

Vince went on a hunt for his wallet and grey hoodie. The latter didn't take long to find, it was sprawled out on the back of the beat up couch near the back of the hideout. As for his wallet…

Orwell picked her head up and noticed how lost her partner looked. "Looking for your wallet?"

"Yeah," the sandy blonde began with a whine. He put his hoodie back down and began searching everywhere else _besides _his hoodie pockets.

"_I'm in love with a blockhead," _the nurse thought to herself. She glanced down at Rose, to which they shared a knowing smile.

"Vince," Orwell spoke as she met with her partner's eyes. "Did you check your hoodie pockets?"

With a sheepish grin, Vince went back over to the couch to pick up his hoodie and search his pockets. When he felt the border of his wallet, his grin only grew more and more awkward. He slipped on his hoodie and threw back at the brunette, "what would I do without you?"

"Walk around like a chicken with its head cut off?" the nurse asked, an innocent smile in place.

"Ha, ha. Very funny," Vince began. They exchanged another one of their longing glances. It was incredibly unfair to want something so bad, even though it was wrong to feel that way.

Rosalia looked in between Vince and Orwell, an amused expression in place. From the little time that they had taken her in, she had sensed that something was going on between those two. They acted like the old married couple who had fostered her for a minute. She let out a hearty giggle as the nurse replaced her soft glance with an 'I'm not waiting all day' look.

"Alright," the sandy blonde chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat, "I'm gone."

Orwell smirked back at her partner and waved slightly. "Tootles."

As soon as the door shut, Rosalia turned to the brunette and curiously asked, "How did you two meet?"

"It's kinda complicated, sweetie. Vince got into some trouble and I wanted to help him," the blogger answered calmly. She wasn't sure how much she should tell to the little blonde. Rosalia was a smart girl; she could definitely put the pieces together.

Rosalia stared back at her mother figure with her large pink eyes, waiting for a response.

Orwell let out a light sigh. That child would be the death of her one day…

"Well," she finally began, "why don't I just show you, instead."

-0-

Rosalia did _not _take the news well. She went through denial, first of all. The eight-year-old could not believe that her adopted father would do something like murder. And yet neither could Orwell, so the blogger understood where she was coming from. Rose didn't even stay on Vince's and Orwell's secrets for very long; they registered, but got lost somewhere in the back of her mind.

The blonde was still confused as ever before. Why did Fleming take her in in the first place? Did he really feel that bad for the sick girl?

And to make matters worse, he held a press conference earlier that day and was it shown all over the news. He was searching for Rosalia and wouldn't give up until he found her.

Once the eight-year-old figured this out, she started to hyperventilate. If he were so bad, why would he be looking for her?

Orwell had walked away from her long enough to help Vince bring in the bags from the diner. Once they saw her again, she was in a distraught mess. She was mumbling to herself and had grown paler than normal.

"Rose, sweetie, are you alright?" the brunette prodded. She put the plate meant for the blonde aside and padded over to where she was curled up on the couch.

The sandy blonde sat down on the opposite side of the child and instinctively glanced over at the T.V. "Uh, Orwell," he began, still glued to the screen. He had heard all about the confession session that happened earlier, so he _knew _that this would make it much worse.

Orwell had her arms gently wrapped around Rosalia as she lightly shushed her and affectionately strummed a thumb across her pale hair. She met with Vince's nervous blue eyes, to which she glanced over at the T.V. to see her father's press conference going on.

"_Please, if anyone knows of her whereabouts, contact ARK at once. The sooner she is back here, the easier I can rest."_

"But… I thought he didn't want me!" Rosalia cried. "I thought he didn't want me, Miss Orwell!" she buried her head into the blogger's stomach and began to sob.

"All of this is for publicity. The better he looks, the less likely it is for him to be framed as Chess," the brunette tried to tell the child. Her voice was sincere, despite the sad frown that tugged at her lips.

"I don't understand! Why would he adopt me if I was just for show?" the child asked, her voice muffled against the blogger's body.

"That's why we got you out of there in the first place, Rose. We needed you safe," Orwell began quietly, still running her fingers through the child's fine hair.

"But I was safe! He never put me in any danger!" Rose began, lifting her head up to show her tear-stained face. "He was very nice."

The brunette wasn't worried about Peter; she was worried about Chess. Growing up, she loved her father, but it wasn't until Chess came out that she started to have problems with him. But how on Earth would she be able to tell this without giving up her secret?

It wasn't like Rosalia would go back to living with the billionaire on her own accord; she just wanted to know _why_. She looked from Vince to Orwell once again, hoping for a response from either of them.

The nurse couldn't believe what she was about to do. She could lose her best friend; she could lose this child's trust. "Rose, believe me when I say that I know where you're coming from." She sighed, glancing between Vince and Rosalia. "As a matter of fact, there is something that you both should hear."

The vigilante's forehead crinkled as he stared back at his partner. "What is it?"

"Vince, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. But, you both need to know that I am Peter Fleming's lost daughter," the blogger whispered, almost ashamed of her identity.

Rosalia's head was swarming with thoughts, but she knew by pure instinct that she better shut up.

"Orwell, you've kept this from me for _months_? Why-" he cut himself off, fully knowing that this should have been saved for when they were alone.

The brunette looked down at the blonde child that was still holding onto her. She could feel the tears build up in her eyes as Vince watched her carefully. "Rose, I loved my father, but living with him was impossible. I couldn't be me, especially after my mother died… Believe me; I'd never take you away if I didn't have a reason to. I couldn't tell the truth of who I was because I didn't want to get caught. I just… couldn't…"

The eight-year-old silently bobbed her head and slid off of the couch to get her lunch. There was nothing else that she could say to that. Not to mention the tension in the room rose astronomically. Vince and Orwell had to talk, and that didn't include her. Rosalia curled into herself as she picked at her lunch that sat on the table. She was trying incredibly hard to keep her threatening sobs at bay. Today had been such a whirlwind already…

Orwell felt horrible. In exchange for helping Rosalia understand were she was coming from, she not only shut the child up, but she also shut her partner up. She had no idea when Vince would talk to her again, but she had a feeling that Rose would be relieved when they did. And she definitely wouldn't be the only one….

-0-

The silent treatment lasted for a few short hours; Vince couldn't be silenced for long, it seemed.

Orwell was making a pot of coffee when her partner came up. His cold blue eyes were locked on her brown ones, which caught the brunette's attention simultaneously.

"Orwell," Vince started, a little too loudly. Rose was sound asleep again. Unfortunately, it was because she had a yet another panic attack. This one literally wore her out. She fell asleep in the blogger's arms, her face shining with fallen tears. The sleeping child had been moved onto the couch, but it was still a risk to talk too loudly.

"We need to talk," he continued in a lower voice.

"I know, Vince. I've just been waiting for you to come to me," the nurse replied, equally as quiet. She placed the last scoop into the coffee filter and turned the pot on.

Once their eyes met, Orwell could tell the pain that her partner was feeling. He _loved _her; he wanted her to open up to him, but this, this was too big a secret to hide.

"Why?" he finally asked. "Why did you feel the need to keep this from me?" His blue eyes were growing wet with unshed tears, as were hers.

"I was scared. How would you have dealt with me when we first met if I told you then? You wouldn't have let me help you. You would have thought that I was working for my father all along," the nurse began, her voice quivering. "When in reality, I have been running away from him for a good portion of my life."

Vince leaned against the table for support. "I get why you didn't tell me. I just _hate _that you didn't tell me. I'm your partner. I confide in you, and you confide in me. If we keep secrets," he swallowed a lump caught in his Adam's Apple, "then what kind of partnership is this?"

Orwell wanted to tell Vince how much she loved him and how much it hurt to keep that from him. But she knew that deep down it wouldn't do any good.

"What can I do now, Vince?" she asked, pleadingly.

"Just tell me now, are you hiding anything else from me?" the sandy blonde questioned, his eyes holding hers intently.

"The only big thing is that I am a nurse. A twenty-one-year-old nurse," Orwell replied just as the first few tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

Vince instinctively reached out for her face, but stopped himself. "Anything else?"

"No," she shook her head, "nothing else that I can think of."

"Alright. Orwell, I want for us to be okay again. I just gotta know that you trust me like I trust you," Vince lightly draped an arm around his partner's waist. "Do you trust me?"

Orwell just walked into his arms and hugged him tightly, letting her actions speak for her words.

-0-

About a week later, a hint of normalcy had returned to Vince and Orwell's hideout. Rosalia trusted them to keep her safe, and that was just what they did. Just recently, she had been re-introduced to the Carnival of Crime, as the vigilante and his partner often got together with the carnies to have dinner.

Life in hiding wasn't as bad as Rose thought it would be. She could still play outside whenever the three of them went up to the carnival; the other carnies would make sure that she was well looked after. And even though Orwell never had a child in her life, she still managed to treat the eight-year-old like her own. She was well fed and well love. She had a bedtime; she couldn't wander off and do whatever she wanted to do. And Rosalia didn't mind any of that. At least she finally had a mother figure that _cared._

The child was often curious of the sandy blonde and brunette's relationship. She knew that Vince was married and trying to get back home to his family, but that made it all the more interesting. It still didn't change the fact that the two acted like _they _were the married couple.

One night while Vince was checking in on his family, heavily disguised as the Cape, Rosalia decided to question Orwell about it.

The little blonde came in on the brunette just as she sat down at her set of computers. She padded over to her and sat down at the chair that the sandy blonde usually sat at when she was playing with her tech.

"Miss Orwell, can I talk to you?" she asked quietly, her large eyes starting up at her. Even though the eight-year-old and the vigilante both knew that her real name was Jamie, they didn't bother to call her that. And the brunette didn't mind one bit.

Orwell looked down at the child and smiled gently. "Of course you can, sweetie. What's wrong?"

"I was just wondering why you and Mr. Vince act like you do around each other. One of my foster parents acted just like you two do. But I don't understand, 'cause Mr. Vince is married," Rosalia inquired, her voice noticeably nervous for asking a question like that.

Kids really did ask the strangest things, didn't they?

"What do you mean, sweetie? How do we act?" the nurse asked, as motherly as she possibly could.

"Like a married couple. Not one that fights all the time, just a little bit. But you two always joke around together. And you're always hugging," Rosalia began matter-of-factly.

Orwell wanted to beat her head against the table. Why did kids have to be so friggen intuitive?

"Well," the brunette drew out, not really knowing what to say. She could tell the little one the truth. She loved Vince and the odds were high that he loved her as well. But, she knew that it would be best if their feelings were never addressed, even if it was just mentioning it to a child…

"I dunno how to explain that one, Rose. There's nothing to it, really. Vince is my best friend," the brunette added, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

The blonde knew that she wasn't telling the truth. Or at least not the whole truth. However, she figured that pressing the issue wouldn't do her any good.

"Okay then," Rose finally said, still disappointed in the lack of answers that she got.

Orwell blew out a breath of relief. She was safe, for now at least.

Rosalia tilted her head to see what her mother figure was up to. She was working on word documents of sorts, which had pictures of Vince and the carnies on it and stats following each picture. The child couldn't catch everything that was on the documents because of how fast the blogger was scrolling through it. The reports themselves were already erased from existence, but she still needed paper copies.

"What are you doing?" the eight-year-old asked with a tiny voice.

"Printing something out for Vince," the nurse replied as her eyes darted across the screen. To back up her story, the printer went off moments later. Before he left that evening, the vigilante told his partner that the carnival needed their police reports, as did Vince himself. Not really caring to know why, she shooed him away with the promise to have it done by the time he got back to the hideout.

And Orwell kept her promise. Not even five minute after she took the papers out of the printer, the sandy blonde came back to the hideout. He shot inside with tears welling up in his eyes. His partner took one look at him as he padded over to her and Rosalia and knew that something had gone wrong.

"Vince, what's wrong?" the nurse asked worriedly.

"It's nothing," he answered distractedly, refusing to meet with her eyes. "Did you get those reports?"

Orwell stood in front of him and bored her eyes into his, begging him to look at her. "I did. But that doesn't answer my question. What happened?"

"It's just hard watching them move on without me. Trip isn't talking to Dana much. Everything would be so much easier if I could just tell them that I'm alive," Vince replied, drooping his shoulders.

"Just give it time, Vince. I promise you that I am doing everything that I can to get you home," the brunette replied, stretching onto her tiptoes to take off his mask and set it aside.

The framed cop enveloped his partner into a warm hug. "I know that, Orwell," he whispered down into her ear, "and I cannot thank you enough."

"You've thanked me plenty, Vince," the nurse replied, her voice muffled against Vince's chest.

"I'll make it up to you, one day," Vince whispered, placing a kiss on top of her head.

If only he could be _hers_ forever, that was all she really wanted. In turn, Orwell just rubbed her partner's back consolably, smiling at how quickly his heart calmed down. "I really hope that I'm helping and not making it worse."

"Making what worse?" the vigilante spared the blogger a smile. "I see things pretty clear right about now."

Vince knew that he was in love with his partner and, for a while, he thought that it would be something that he could come clean to Dana about and have a talk with his wife and partner. But now, it occurred to him that he _couldn't _have it both ways. And every day that Orwell was there for him, the more his heart cried for her. He had seen her in so many different lights and it was all starting to make sense.

The brunette picked her head up and flashed him a smile. As their eyes locked, both of their hearts began to race a mile a minute.

Rosalia watched her parental figures with a smile of her own. "Best friends?" she spoke under her breath. Funny title to be using, wasn't it?"

-0-

Once Vince finally regained his composure, he Orwell and Rose paid a visit to the carnival. The vigilante had to give the police reports to his carnie friends, and a meal was promised after that, so the blogger and child were _expected _to come along.

The blogger had no idea what everyone wanted their police reports for, but it all began to make sense when she saw a mini bonfire being started inside a tall bucket.

Their carnie friends were sitting around the fire, laughing about God knew what. When the reports were passed around, their laughter only tripled. It became a bit of a game; they were all joking about their offences, reminiscing about what happened on those occasions.

Orwell wasn't really sure if Rosalia should have been exposed to all of that, but there wasn't much else for her to do. The little blonde was kept close to her as she sat next to Vince, who solemnly read over his own police report. This was opposed to the others, who were still laughing about theirs.

"Vince," the brunette called out worriedly. A sad smile began to tug at her lips as their eyes met, "just burn it."

"I am," the vigilante sighed, looking back down at the report. "I just can't believe that everyone thinks that I did those things."

Orwell squeezed his shoulder. "We know for a fact that you didn't do it," she replied reassuringly.

"_You _know, but my family doesn't," Vince tossed the report into the fire and turned towards his partner with a sad smile.

"Do you really think that Dana would believe all of that crap that my father said?" the nurse asked, swallowing a lump in her throat. "She loves you; I highly doubt that she would let herself believe that."

"I hope you're right, Orwell," the sandy blonde whispered, absent-mindedly playing with his fingers.

The brunette let out a gentle sigh and scooted closer to her partner, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Vince accepted the interaction, taking her into his arms for a tight hug. He smiled down at her, a bit sadly. "Yeah, I would be like a chicken running around with my head cut off without you. Probably a mopey one at that."

Orwell chuckled into his chest. "Well, you don't have to worry about being a mopey chicken, Vince. I'm right here."

Rosalia, who had just come back in from the bathroom, smiled to herself as she saw her parental figures embracing. To give them privacy, she retraced her footsteps to see what the other carnies were up to.

-0-

Even if Rosalia was missing, it didn't mean that Peter would call off research for the cure to the virus that was still dormant within the child's body. In fact, the doctors were still working at 4 o'clock that morning.

Only two were on call at that moment; one of the doctors left the lab long enough to get more coffee for her and her partner, having no idea what would be in store for her when she retured.

The male doctor that was left in the lab _thought _he had enough self-control to stay awake. He had been staring into the microscope for hours while his partner ran the incongruities they found on the computer.

Unfortunatley for Rick, he was slipping in and out of consciousness. If Jessie didn't hurry up with that coffee…

The last time his body jerked awake, his elbow sent the microcope toppling to the floor, spreading Rosalia's blood culture sample along with it. The male doctor didn't know what hit him; the virus almost immediately took effect.

By the time Jessie came back into the lab, bearing the two cups of coffee, Rick was curled into himself and wallowing in his own blood. His pupils were rolling into the back of his head, as his body was wracked with coughs.

The female doctor dropped the cups instantaneously and made a run for her counterpart. "Rick? What's going on?" She knelt down next to him and studied his toppled form. "Richard?" she called out again, this time in a whisper.

Her counterpart's body arched as a convulsion surged through it. His white eye sockets began to bleed and turn pitch black.

Jessie jumped back as Richard spent his last breath coughing up blood. Her counterpart fell limp, which prompted a panic attack. The female doctor pushed the body off of her and rushed for the phone.

She hadn't even noticed the lab damage until she got on the phone. Glass and blood were everywhere; now to top it all off, an employee was dead on the ground.

Jessie was startled out of her reverie as Fleming's voice came from the other side of the phone. "Mr. Fleming, it's Dr. Carver. No sir, everything is not okay. There has been an accident…"

The doctor was only minutes before meeting her own death. The Rosalia virus tore apart at its victims in different patterns. Some had fast deaths, but some had to suffer with it for weeks, maybe months. This virus was ruthless and now it would soon be spread all across the city.

**How's **_**that **_**for a cliffhanger? Reviews make the world go round, and the writer write faster! **


	6. Through the fire and the flames

**Hey! It's my first update via a brand spanking new laptop! I'd like to thank my lovely parents for that one. Lol. Anyway, that's beside the point. Here's a new chapter. Sorry about the delay of game.**

**Thanks are in order for my lovely reviewers: XxDeathStarxX, IronAmerica, and Cheerfulbunny.**

**I do not own The Cape or Trauma Team.**

_**Second Chance- Chapter Six: Through the fire and the flames**_

For the next week or so, ARK kept the Rosalia virus under wraps. No one could enter the building, but yet no one could leave, either. Family of ARK employees were notified, but were authorized to keep everything a secret.

Everything was all fine and good until the virus started to spread again. Two more lives were lost within two days. At that point, Peter Fleming knew that he couldn't keep this just to his business any longer. He contacted the Mayor, but only met with him virtually. The billionaire explained everything to Mayor Welkins, sincerely hoping that help could be brought to the city.

Within hours, Palm City was under a quarantine watch. Citizens were notified to stay indoors; if they were sick, it would be best for them to lay low until a solution could be found.

Vince found out about this _too _early in the morning. He was woken up by his partner, who had jabbed him in the side. Orwell's eyes were wide as she watched the TV. When the vigilante sat up on the bed, he heard the last bit of the press conference that informed the citizens of the quarantine. If Vince had been drinking coffee at that point, it would have been spit out all over his partner.

As the news station went on a commercial break, both the sandy blonde and the blogger grew still. A quarantine? Why now of all times?

"Orwell," the vigilante murmured, turning just his head to look over at his partner.

"Yeah, Vince?" she spoke, swallowing a rather large lump in her throat.

"I need you to pinch me as hard as you can," Vince whispered down at her, hoping that this would all be a bad dream.

Orwell obliged, reaching over to pinch her partner's arm. She sat back and stared at him afterwards, waiting for him to respond.

"Ouch! That hurt!" the vigilante whined, rubbing at his arm. Then his words finally registered. "Oh. That _did _hurt."

The brunette sighed heavily. "Which means that this is real."

"Yay for us," Vince murmured under his breath.

Rosalia stirred at that point. She had been sleeping on her blown-up mattress when the news story began. It was about nine in the morning but, for whatever reason, her body woke her up. Her foster parents had bought her the mattress when they took her away from Fleming. Vince slept on the couch most nights and gave his partner the bed, but sometimes they would fall asleep slightly curled into each other. Neither of them really minded this; both of them knew that nothing happened on those nights, so was it really a problem? Last night was one of the nights that they fell asleep together.

Orwell heard the tiny blonde shuffle out of her bed sheets and shook herself free from her reverie. She instinctively picked up her head to see what was going on. "Rose? You okay?"

"Mhm," Rose began groggily, rubbing her eyes. She got up from her bed and padded over to the mini fridge in the back of the hideout. She hated coffee with a passion at her delicate age, but what she _loved _was orange juice.

Vince watched the child as closely as his partner did. They knew that she wouldn't get into any trouble, but they still liked to keep an eye on her.

"Sleep well, kiddo?" he asked Rosalia. The father just missed his son; that was one of the reasons why he was so protective over her. He felt like he _had _to be. As for Orwell, well, it wasn't a real mystery that she had taken the role of mom for this little girl.

"I slept like a baby," the little blonde replied with a tiny grin on her face. She then stuck her head in the fridge and pulled out a small bottle of orange juice.

The vigilante and blogger locked gazes for a moment or so before returning back to the TV. It hadn't been said exactly _what _the virus was, which led the city into even more panic.

Orwell finally broke the silence with something that had crossed the both of their minds. "Vince, I have a bad feeling about this…"

In turn, her partner replied, "me too," and leaned forward to kiss her temple. "Me too, Orwell," he added as he leaned onto her for what felt like eternity.

-0-

Dana Faraday wasn't really looking forward to work today. She had a freakishly tall pile of case reports to sort through. Not to mention that she had no idea if she would be called to Trip's school again. He had been getting into fights back to back now.

The strawberry blonde sighed and plopped down on her couch with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. She had already turned the news on but she hadn't been paying much attention to it. The word _quarantine _finally grabbed Dana's attention to the point that she was practically hypnotized.

Palm City was under a quarantine watch? What the hell was going on?

The public defender shuffled towards her son's room, where Trip was still sound asleep. Dana peeked into her ten-year-old's room and smiled warmly at his sleeping form. Well, he would be glad that school was cancelled for the day, she thought.

The mother gently pulled Trip's bedroom door to again and retreated back down the hallway. So, now that the day _possibly _couldn't get any worse…

Of course, she said this before she padded back into the living room. Waiting for her with a sheepish look in place was none other than, a _very _much alive, Vince. Dana couldn't even get her husband's name out before she collapsed.

-0-

It was the vigilante's entire idea to talk to his wife and son. He knew that a disaster was about to happen, and he'd be damned if he would continue to be dead to his family. Orwell thought he had a death wish and retorted with questioning him if he had written a will…

As Vince sat on the couch of his wife's apartment, he was silently wondering the same thing. If Dana didn't kill him first, Max would definitely finish the job. The sandy blonde openly offered for his wife and their son to stay with the Carnival until everything with the virus settled down.

The public defender didn't know what to say. At first, she slapped her husband as hard as she could muster. Vince could barely explain himself to the strawberry blonde, as she interrupted him every few seconds with twenty different questions.

Amongst explaining what he had been doing for nearly eight months, he also began to explain his partner. It wasn't easy admitting to his wife that he had fallen in love with another woman,

but it _had _to be done. It wouldn't have been fair to Orwell, nor would it have been fair to the relationship that they had.

Husband and wife decided that there was just far too much going on for them to mend their relationship. Not to mention that Vince was in love with another woman, but Dana also couldn't get over the fact that she had been lied to for eight months. That kind of stuff just didn't mend quickly; it was a waste of time for them to try to make it work. Even though the strawberry blonde was _so _incredibly happy to see the vigilante, it didn't replace the hole in her heart that had been there for months. She just _couldn't _love him like she used to.

Despite this, the father and son reuniting was heartbreaking for Dana. She watched the interactions with a sad smile. It didn't matter that Vince had lied to them for eight months, Trip was still so happy to see his father that it brought tears to his eyes. Even after Vince told his son all that he told the public defender, their son still wouldn't let go of his father. Later on he would probably freak out about his parents not being together, but right now the initial happiness was still in effect.

About an hour after Vince came into the apartment in the first place, he and his family discreetly left with little to nothing for Trolley Park.

-0-

Orwell had been twiddling her thumbs as she waited for her partner to get to the Carnival. She was… nervous about meeting Dana and Trip. What if the public defender hated her from the very start for taking her husband away? And the child probably wouldn't think too well of her either, if that were the case.

Rosalia watched her mother figure worry with her fingers and the little blonde did her best to cheer her up. She tried _everything, _hugging her, talking to her; she even tried bringing Orwell's laptop over to her. It was all useless, basically.

When Vince came back, he was prepared to be chewed out by his mentor. He told Max that he was going off to check on his family, but left the detail out that they would be coming back to stay with the carnies.

The magician took one look at the Faradays as they padded inside one-by-one and fumed. What was that idiot he had for a student thinking?

The sandy blonde sent his wife and son along after seeing Max's look. Rather nervously, he shuffled up to his mentor.

"I can explain," Vince began, raising his hands in defense.

"Why can't you use your brain, Vincent?" the magician quipped.

"What? Max, I _did _what was best for my family. If they're here with us, the odds of them getting sick are slim!" the vigilante replied. No one knew the vector to the virus. For ARK's sake, none of that was released. If they would have known that all it took was Rosalia's blood to be absorbed _just _once…

"Yes, but what happens when this is over with? If Peter Fleming realizes that your wife knows too much she could get hurt. And God knows what will happen to your son," Max spoke, highly annoyed with his student.

"I'll do what I can to keep them safe, Max," Vince murmured as he walked past the magician. What he had come to find was that Dana and Orwell were talking. More importantly, they were _laughing _and talking. The vigilante had a feeling that this was bad news for him. What could be worse than two strong-willed women working against him?

Vince braced himself as he padded towards his wife and partner. Maybe he should have invested in some padding along with those running shoes…

-0-

The meeting with Dana and Trip had gone ten times better than the nurse anticipated. Much to her delight, both women got along great. It was still like a little slap in the mouth to see the woman who took the public defender's husband away from her, but that awkwardness would eventually pass.

Even Trip was enjoying himself; now that he had a friend to play with _and _his father, the ten-year-old was at a highlight in his life. He liked Orwell well enough, but he still didn't quite understand what was going on with his parents. The brunette worried about what he would be like when that time came, but Dana reassured her that he would be fine with it in due time.

Living quarters were a little hectic; Vince couldn't sleep in the same room as his wife and son, but he couldn't sleep in the same room as his partner and Rosalia, either. Everything was just really complicated at this point. The vigilante gravitated towards Orwell everyday when it came right down to it, but how soon could he tell her? Now with Dana there, he wasn't sure what would be safe for him to do at this point.

On the first night of the quarantine, the brunette nurse was having a hard time sleeping. She had Rosalia curled up against her, but it really wasn't the same as Vince. He was a safe house of sorts for her. Even when he stayed on the couch back at the hideout at night, they were still in the same room. Now that they stayed with the Carnival to wait out the quarantine, it was disrupting.

Orwell decided after a while that it was doing her no good to lay down if she couldn't sleep. She gently got out of bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping child. From the moment that her bare feet touched the cold floor, she padded on to find her partner.

Luckily for her, Vince wasn't having much luck with sleeping, either. He had far too many things on his plate than to worry about a mediocre necessity called sleep.

The vigilante was busying himself with staring at the intricate threading on the couch that he was laying on. In other words, he was trying to bore himself to death.

Orwell smiled to herself and tiptoed over to him. Vince wasn't even aware of her presence until he felt the couch dip under her weight.

He picked his head up from where he had it on the arm of the couch. "Hey, Orwell," the sandy blonde spoke groggily. Suddenly, he became aware that he had to tell her what was going on. She was the one person that would understand where he was coming from.

"Hi, Vince," the blogger replied, shooting a tiny smile back at her partner.

"I'm guessing you can't sleep, either?" Vince asked her, a concerned expression in place.

"You can say that," Orwell sighed, lightly threading and unthreading her fingers together.

The vigilante sat up and scooted closer to his partner. "Join the club, I've been tossing and turning forever…"

The brunette patted his knee. "Worrying over your family?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Vince murmured, lightly running his fingers through his hair. "I thought I did the right thing but…" he trailed off with a rough sigh.

The nurse gave him one of her world famous looks. "Vince, you did the right thing. Your family needed to know that you're alive. If you had waited any longer…" she paused, noticing her partner flinch. Yeah, that would not have been a good thing.

"I just… there's a lot going on in my mind right now. You, Rose, Dana, Trip… it's a wonder why my hair hasn't turned gray yet," he chuckled lightly, trying to make himself feel better.

"I don't want you to worry about me," Orwell began, turning her body towards the sandy blonde. "You've got a wife and a kid. That's all you need."

"No, you don't get it, Orwell," Vince murmured under his breath, shaking his head a bit.

The brunette's forehead crinkled as she stared back at her partner. "What don't I get?" she asked. Her heart was starting to drum faster and faster in her chest.

"Because," the vigilante began, swallowing rather hard before continuing, "because I love you. Not a brother-sister love. Not a friend love. An '_I want to be with you_' love."

Orwell felt her heart dip straight into her stomach at that revelation. She knew it would come one day, but she didn't expect it to happen while all of this was going on…

**Well, whatcha think? In Vince's defense, he's got a lot going on. At least he's got Orwell, right? **


	7. Feeding the Enemy

**Greetings fellow earthlings! I come with a new chapter for your reading pleasures. **

**I'd like to thank the usual reviewers: IA and DS for their reviews last chapter.**

**Also, as usual, I own nothing.**

_**Second Chance- Chapter Seven: Feeding the Enemy**_

Orwell felt the ground before her shake as her brain registered the revelation that her partner had set out in front of her. Why he chose _now _of all times to tell her this, she would never know. The brunette knew that she loved her partner with all of her heart, but she just couldn't get the fact wrapped around her head that Vince had just poured his heart out in front of her, with his wife and son in the same living facility as them. She understood that they weren't going to work on their marriage, but it still bothered the nurse that Dana might not have been comfortable with her husband moving on this quickly.

"You don't have to say that you love me. If you don't mean it, I don't want you to lie to me to make it all better," Vince replied easily, taking in the nurse with calm blue eyes.

"Believe me Vince; I'd be lying to myself if I said that I didn't love you. I just… I'm not sure if this is the best time to be starting a relationship," she spoke softly, her eyes sparkling back at the vigilante.

"I do have pretty crappy timing, don't I?" the sandy blonde muttered to himself. Much clearer this time around, he began again, "are you worried about upsetting Dana?"

"Of course. Even if she says that she's fine with you being in a new relationship, it'll still kill her to see you in that new relationship," Orwell replied, a little annoyed with herself for having to be the good-natured girl that she was raised to be.

"I know that it will, Orwell," Vince spoke through a rough sigh. "But I'm not sure how much longer I should give her before moving on to a relationship with you. I'm going to sound like an ass either way, even though Dana and I agreed on a separation."

"We'll just have to play it by ear. I cannot tell you how hard it is for me to say this, Vince; we'll figure out something soon, I promise," the brunette nurse smiled back at her partner and gently wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

The vigilante returned the embrace as quickly as his reflexes could react. He was happy to note that after their embrace ended, his partner didn't leave his side. She curled up against him and tried to find a comfort zone that would easily allow her to slip off into a deep sleep. Vince smiled down at Orwell as she snuggled into him subconsciously. In just a few short minutes later, he had dozed off with his arm supporting his partner against his chest. They both tried to convince themselves that this wasn't a couple thing but, no matter what they did, their affection for each other would always make itself known.

-0-

As if Vince and Orwell didn't have enough problems to deal with as it was, they had to listen to Peter Fleming give another one of his press conferences from inside of ARK Towers. After long hours of carefully examining what was left of Rosalia's blood culture samples, the scientists that had yet to come up with an antidote, or even a cause of the disease. Nothing was ever found out about the Rosalia virus and doctors and biologists alike had been working together for years to determine the background of it.

The press conference was basically a cry for help on Fleming's part. He stressed to the citizens that if they knew anything about it, not to hesitate to contact the billionaire.

The brunette blogger and her partner had had a bad feeling about the main vector of the virus from the very beginning. It was highly likely that it was the RNA virus that lay dormant in their foster daughter's body. And if their suspicions were correct, the only option there was, was to bring Rosalia back to ARK. As unappealing as that sounded for the mother figure, the fact that it could save hundreds of lives pretty much evened her feelings out about it. Now the only problem was how would Rose get back to ARK? Vince was dead and… Orwell hadn't really been the first to volunteer to see her father again.

Eventually though, the young nurse had realized that it was up to her. The vigilante was hiding from Fleming and his cronies. The last thing he needed was them to figure out his real identity. So, to protect her partner and the rest of the city, she had to do what she swore that she would never do again. She was going to have to see her father.

-0-

On the day that Orwell and Rosalia were supposed to meet Fleming, the blogger was seriously regretting ever agreeing to this. For one, she wasn't ready to face her father but, more importantly, she wasn't ready to let go of Rose. The nurse had a lost list going on in her head that contained all of the possible things that could go wrong with this. Ergo, she should just take Rosalia and head back to the Carnival.

But that nagging thing in the back of her mind called a conscience wouldn't let her. What if all of this was really the answer to the virus outbreak? If she kept Rosalia away from them, the city would have been stuck with nowhere to turn.

Grabbing all of the courage she could muster, the brunette led little Rose through a back way to get to ARK. Even if she had Fleming's adopted daughter with her, she would still have to find another way to get there besides through normal roadways.

Peter Fleming had been expecting his daughter to arrive with Rosalia at any moment. When he first received a video feed from Orwell, he thought that it was too good to be true. Getting both of his daughters back at the same time? This whole thing was labeled as a disaster. Did Jamie even want to see him again? If she didn't, there was absolutely no reason for her to stay.

The brunette was worried about what she would be facing when she set foot in ARK. However, her father was waiting for her in the lowest level of ARK. Not many people knew of their evacuation plan in the circumstance of a disaster such as this. This lower level of ARK wrapped around to an underground route that could transport the employees to and from the building without letting anything else out.

Peter didn't bother to bring any of his muscle men. This was his daughter that he was meeting with. His little princess meant more to him than anything else in the world. He highly doubted that she would bring anything that could be potentially dangerous.

The billionaire kept his word and met with Orwell and Rosalia in ARK's lowest level. This was so secretive that not even the blogger knew anything about it before she talked to her father about meeting him. Everything known to man was packaged in there. If a zombie apocalypse decided to rear its ugly head, this would be the ideal fortress to have.

The elder Fleming's heart thundered in his chest as he saw the girls under the dimly lit tunnel lights. Rose was really nervous coming to see her adopted father again. After all that she learned about him, now she had to come back to live with him again. Orwell had told her that it would only be for a little while longer. After the quarantine was released from the city, the brunette swore to the child that she would find a way to get her back again.

The meeting was short on the nurse's part. She didn't want to see her father anymore than she wanted to see Rosalia leave her and Vince. The sooner she could speak her peace and leave the better.

There was a doctor in town that had been in a conference this whole week. He had been said to be a brilliant doctor and could eradicate any disease that he worked with. Peter had made a negotiation with this doctor. If he could help his employees in the medical ward at ARK, there would be a _very _generous tip involved. All Orwell could say was that he better do the job right.

Much to Peter's dismay, he couldn't make his older daughter stay. He tried, but there was really nothing more that he could do. The billionaire had no idea that his daughter was Orwell, or did he have any idea that she was the one who kidnapped Rosalia in the first place. In fact, he was in such initial shock that he didn't ask many questions.

-0-

Vince could tell from the moment that his partner came back to the Carnival that she was fighting to keep a straight face. It was killing him to see her like that; the vigilante could only hope that this 'extra special' doctor would hurry the hell up so things could go back to being just a _little _hectic.

Orwell had tried to sit down next to the sandy blonde and talk to him about how the meeting with her father went, but she was far too jittery to sit still for more than a minute. She had fed the enemy exactly what she wanted, and her reasoning for doing it wasn't as concrete as she liked it to be.

"Orwell, you just need to sit down and relax. I'm sure Rose is fine and she'll be able to come back to us soon," the vigilante began, bearing a pretty white set of teeth for his partner. His smiles normally worked on her. Tonight, however, her lips ceased to curl up into a smile like normal.

The brunette snorted in disbelief, running her fingers in between the spaces on her opposite hands. "And you think that my father will let her out of his sight again? He let me go; the odds of him letting her go are slim to none."

Vince sighed. He loved his partner to death, but sometimes she just worried too damn much. The sandy blonde stood up from his seat on the couch and met up with the brunette. "Orwell, what's gonna happen to her when my name is cleared and Fleming goes to prison? Just think about that for a minute."

The nurse didn't need time to think about it. Her answer was almost instantaneously. "She would go to the next closest living relative."

"Which would be?" the vigilante asked, prompting a light bulb to go off in the brunette's mind.

"That would be me. But, Vince, what if something happens to her between now and then? Imagine all of the tests that they're going to have to run on her. I should never have given her up. The city could have burned up for all I care!" Orwell started to pace again, her tone of voice rising with every sentence that escaped her lips. "I just want my little girl back!"

Vince knew that he and his partner had talked about waiting before pursuing in a relationship, but right now he was drawing blanks at what he could do besides stand there and hold her. She would break down and he would be right there for her, just like he always would be.

The nurse stood still for a moment, trying to put herself back together. Her hands were shaking as she ran them through her thick blanket of hair. She knew better than to start crying, but she just couldn't keep herself from spilling her tears any longer. "Vince, she's my girl. She's all I've got left at this point."

The vigilante did what he felt was best and took his partner into his arms from behind. "You've got me too, you know," he whispered down at her.

Orwell laughed to herself at this, tears streaming down her cheeks. "No, I don't. You belong with your wife."

Vince turned the brunette around to face him, sternness in his blue eyes. "Dana and I don't belong together anymore. I screwed up for good when I went on with being a dead man for eight months."

"And I lied to you for eight months. You just recently found out my biggest secret," the brunette shot back harshly.

"Yes, but I happen to be in love with you. Dana had finally gotten over my death when I showed up alive and well," the sandy blonde spoke, his voice extremely gentle.

"Vince, I—" Orwell began, struggling for the right words.

Vince silenced them both by melding their lips together in a mind shattering kiss. The whole world stopped at that point. Nothing to worry about; just bliss and heaven on Earth.

"Is this the part where I shut up now and tell you that I love you too?" the brunette asked, completely frazzled after their lips disconnected.

The vigilante smiled sadly. "Yeah, I think that would be best."

"I'm sorry, Vince. It's just, when I worry about one thing, I start second guessing everything else," Orwell spoke, closing her eyes as she leaned her forehead against the sandy blonde's.

"You don't need to second guess anything when it comes to us," Vince began, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I want to be with you. There is no such thing as a big enough obstacle to get in between us. I love everything about you. How I can tell what's wrong with you just by looking into your eyes. Or how I can judge by your smiles or your laughs. I love how your whole face lights up when you're genuinely happy. Or how your body shakes when you're really laughing at something."

The brunette supported her partner's head with the palm of her hand as she drew closer for a warm embrace. "I wish I could come up with something to say to that, but right now I'm just drawing a blank," she pulled away for a moment, her lips spreading into a tiny grin. "Just know that I love you more than I can explain."

The vigilante sealed their lips together once again. At this point, he didn't care who saw them. He had calmed his partner down, that was the most important thing. After their kiss ended, he got to hold her and protect her without any interruptions or protests.

**Well, what'd you think? Enjoy Vince being his usual adorkable self? **


	8. Too Good to be True

**Hey, I'm actually writing again! Yay! Anyway, real life has been kinda interrupting my writing schedule, but I'm taking the time to write just for you guys.**

**Many thanks go to: IronAmerica and XxDeathStarxX for their reviews last chapter.**

**I do not own The Cape or Trauma Center/Team.**

_**Second Chance- Chapter Eight: Too Good To Be True**_

Rosalia liked being helpful, she really did. However, she was so incredibly miserable living back at ARK Towers that it didn't really matter that she was helping or not. It had been a few short weeks since the little blonde had been brought to ARK again. And, with the help of the doctor hired by Peter Fleming, the Rosalia virus was becoming less and less of an issue. An anti-serum had been made from the right dosage of her blood; that had been the real trick, considering that her blood was both a blessing and a curse all in one.

Everyone who had shown symptoms of the virus were treated with the anti-serum. Fleming was deemed a hero, even more so than he had been before. His adopted daughter couldn't see him as the hero that the other citizens saw him as. Frankly, the child couldn't wait to get the chance to be with Vince and Orwell again. _They _were more like parents to her than any of her other foster parents before them. She could only hope that they took her back soon.

-0-

Vince tried to get his partner to remain optimistic; ever since her father took Rose back in, she had been in a seriously foul mood. Any time Orwell smiled, it was _only _because of the vigilante. If he managed to do that much, he felt very accomplished. The romantic tendencies between the two of them were even harder to ignore than they were before. She needed a companion to be there for her, even though she wouldn't admit it herself. Vince knew that she did and he just held her. The sandy blonde couldn't help but feel guilty about kissing her, even though that was what he wanted. Vince just felt that he was taking advantage of her and he wouldn't do that again. Not until she was ready.

In reality, though, she was more than ready to be with him. From the very first day that they met, Orwell had dreamed of being with him. She admired him for more than just his good looks. She loved him for his adamancy, not to mention his family oriented traits. Vince was a great man; now that she knew that he wanted to be with her, it was all a little overwhelming. Her other half told her to indulge in the opportunity, but she wasn't sure just how _well _she could trust her gut feeling. One day she would trust her instinct; and that one day would hopefully come soon.

Taking a deep breath of air, the brunette blogger hunkered down in her chair with her laptop balanced perfectly on her lap. She had needed to do something to blow off some steam, but nothing was really working. Solitaire was boring her and she was having some serious issues with writer's block when it came to updating her blogs.

Vince carefully watched his partner from the seat he took straight across from her. It worried the hell out of him that she looked like she would break at any moment. The vigilante knew that the only thing he could do for her was be there, but even then that wasn't good enough. Ever since the quarantine let out, they had gone back to their hideout. Dana and Trip went back to their apartment, but with the satisfaction that the framed cop would be back to check on them periodically.

Orwell felt her partner's eyes on her and smiled sadly. Leaving her laptop behind, she padded over to him and sat down in the chair with him, curling into his chest. Instantly, she felt a weight alleviate from her shoulders. Vince was her safe haven and always would be.

"You looked a little lost over there, you know," the vigilante replied easily into her ear. He slipped an arm around her to secure her in place.

"I was just thinking," the brunette began, absently strumming her thumb against Vince's arm.

He gently kissed the crown of her head. "About Rose?"

"Of course," Orwell let out a gentle sigh, "I really hope that my father is treating her well. When I was little, I was _so _close to him. Just hoping that it's the same for Rosalia."

"You'll have to tell me about your childhood sometime. This I'm dying to hear," Vince spoke, running his fingers through her hair.

"You're the only one that I'd ever tell," the nurse replied, her eyes intently on his.

"'Cause I'm awesome like that, right?" the sandy blonde teased with a playful glint in his eyes.

Orwell smacked him in the arm. "Moment killer much?"

"Hey, it made you feel better didn't it?" Vince asked, quite proudly.

The brunette nuzzled into his chest again and just nodded. Her partner grinned victoriously and added, "My job here is done."

"Your job is never done when you're a superhero," Orwell started, a weak smirk in place.

"Well, my part-time job is keeping you happy, you know," the sandy blonde added matter-of-factly.

"That's 'cause you're a great big suck-up," the nurse explained.

"Is being a suck-up such a bad thing? It keeps you happy, doesn't it?" Vince asked; his lips were now millimeters from hers.

"More than you know," Orwell spoke distractedly. She tried to keep her head on straight. If she didn't keep it together, she would be indulging in a kiss. And most likely one would lead to another.

"Vince," the brunette added almost inaudibly. "I want you to kiss me," she stared back at him, losing her hearing to the pounding sounds of her heartbeat. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Nope, unless we're both wrong; I want to kiss you too," the Cape spoke in a whisper, subconsciously moving his lips closer to hers.

"It's simple, isn't it?" Orwell began, babbling to herself. "You love me and I love you. Is it a crime to love somebody?"

"I didn't think it was. You're going through a rough time and you need somebody there for you. Someone who _does _love you," Vince replied, slowly but surely.

"And you need me just as much as I need you, huh?" the brunette asked, realization dawning upon her.

"More than you know," the framed cop mimicked his partner's phrase from before.

Orwell nuzzled back into his chest after those words registered. A smile tugged at her lips as Vince kissed the sliver of skin that was exposed on her shoulder. Maybe that one day she longed for had actually arrived.

-0-

Dana knew that she should have kept her mouth shut about her husband being alive, but the public defender had lost her calm when she saw Marty Voyt coming up to her. The first thing that came out of her mouth was an accusation. She wanted to know exactly what he knew about Vince's _murder. _ If he could come clean to her, it would make everything so much easier. The public defender and her husband had talked about what would need to be done for him to come back from the dead. It would involve many resources and many different hands, but it was doable.

The strawberry blonde welcomed Marty into her home, gritting her teeth the entire time. She felt that she was welcoming in the enemy or, if anything else, a complete stranger.

The off-duty chief of police sat on Dana's couch, wringing his hands together. He was a little nervous. Everyone knew that the public defender was a little intimidating, especially when you were her target of choice.

"So," she began, bearing two cups of coffee for them both. "How's life being the chief of police, hm?"

Marty began to squirm in his seat under her penetrating gaze. Being a mom, she definitely had that down pat. It took him quite a while, but Dana got him talking about the _real _Peter Fleming. His occurrences were recorded, just in case they needed a last resort for clearing her husband's name.

When the chief of police found out that his best friend was alive and well, he thought that he was delusional. The strawberry blonde had to repeat herself for it to really sink in.

"Vince is… _alive_?" Marty spoke slowly to try to understand the situation more clearly.

"That was my general reaction, yes," Dana began, "but now that you_ know_, I trust that you'll keep your mouth shut. We're trying to clear his name, if you open your mouth that could ruin the whole plan."

"Dana, Fleming threatens my family; I… I can't have that," the chief of police replied, clenching and retracting a fist.

"Which is why we need you on our side. You keep your mouth shut and join our little army," the public defender said. It was times like these that Marty really wondered if she was a soldier just as Vince was. She surely had the bravado for it, didn't she?

"Alright, alright. You've got my word," Marty began, a rough sigh escaping his lips.

As Dana escorted him out a little while later, she took a few looks around to make sure that they weren't being followed and/or photographed. She smiled as she found out that neither were the case.

Unfortunately, this wasn't entirely true. Before they went back to the apartment, a fellow ARK security guard heard the chief of police's portion of the conversation and ran to tell Fleming without sticking around to hear _who _he was talking to. In a matter of minutes, the billionaire learned that Marty was speaking of Vince Faraday's death. That was enough to get the chief of police killed himself.

-0-

Rosalia sat Indian-style on the fluffy bed she had ARK Towers. It was about eleven at night and she couldn't sleep. She tried, she really did. But something was bothering her. The little blonde hadn't spoken to Orwell in close to two weeks and it was taking its toll. The brunette nurse had really become like her mother, no matter how short of a time that they had lived together.

The child looked on the nightstand next to her bed and saw the cell phone that her mother figure had given her. It was purely for emergencies if Orwell and Vince wanted to get in contact with her; they didn't want Fleming to find it. Rose, however, she could call the blogger and her partner anytime, no strings attached. She was actually thinking about taking her mother figure up on that offer.

Rose reached for the phone and went through her contacts to find Orwell's number. A smile tugged at her tiny lips as she hit the green send button. The good thing about the blogger was that she was a night owl; no matter how late—or early, depending how you look at it—it was she was always up doing _something_.

When the phone call came through on the nurse's end, she was curled up with her partner and catching up with her blogs. Vince was fighting sleep; every few seconds, his partner would hear snores coming from his mouth. Orwell looked down at her phone as she heard her ringtone start. She had no idea who would be calling her at this hour; she had her hopes, but she also had her doubts.

"Who is it?" the vigilante asked, his words slurred from his sleepy state.

The nurse checked the caller ID, her eyes brightening up instantly. "It's Rose!"

Vince smiled back at his partner and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek as she answered the phone. He could make her smile, but he could tell that she felt just the same with Rosalia.

"Hello?" Orwell answered with a broad smile.

"_Hi Miss Orwell!" _the little blonde began, already letting her emotions getting the best of her.

"It's good to hear from you, sweetie," a sad smile tugged at the brunette's lips, "are you doing alright?"

"_Uh-huh! It's not so bad, but I miss you and Mr. Vince,"_ Rosalia began with a frown; she could practically see her mother figure's sad smile through the phone.

"We miss you too, I can assure you that," Orwell replied with that motherly tone that only came out when she was talking to the little blonde.

"Yeah, kiddo. It takes a lot out of me just to get her to stop worrying about you," Vince threw in, getting whacked in the chest for good measures.

"Way to tell all of my secrets!" the brunette began, prompting a giggle from the child.

"_Have you two gotten married yet?" _Rosalia asked, completely innocent.

The potential couple glanced at each other, both looking rather amused.

"No, sweetie; I don't think that'll be for a little while now," Orwell replied, her eyes still on the vigilante's.

"_Aww. But why? I thought that things were going well!" _the little blonde whined, which was _really_ adorable.

The nurse smiled to herself. She was really rooting for them, wasn't she? "Things are working well, baby girl, but Vince and I have to get quite a few things straightened out before worrying about that."

Rosalia let out a sigh. When would they _ever _listen to her? _"When can I see you guys again?"_

"We're working on it right now, sweetie. If Vince can get his name back soon, then it'll be just as soon," Orwell began with a tiny smile. She wasn't worried about him leaving her after his name was cleared; as far as she was concerned, when his name was cleared, so was hers.

"_Mmm. Okay. Try to hurry," _the little blonde added in a murmur,_ "I really miss you guys." _

Tears began to well up in the brunette's eyes at that point. "We really miss you too. We're going to work as hard as we can for you, alright?"

"_Okay. Well, I think I'm going to bed," _Rosalia sleepily rubbed her eye with a free hand. _"Wanted to say hi before I did. Couldn't sleep."_

"You can always call us, Rose," Orwell smiled down into the phone.

"And if she's sleeping, I'll put the phone to her mouth so you can hear when she snores," Vince joked, receiving a mocked-shock look from his partner. In turn, he leaned his head over and caught his lips with hers in a quick kiss. Again, the eight-year-old erupted with laughter.

"Now that Vince is done being _silly_, we'll let you go; alright sweetie?" the brunette spoke in a gentle voice. Now that she knew that her little girl was alright, maybe she could get some sleep.

"_Alright, goodnight," _Rosalia murmured sleepily.

"Night, Rose," the mother-figure replied, tilting the phone closer to her partner.

"Night, kiddo. No bedbugs, right?" the father-figure added with a grin.

The eight-year-old looked down at her covers, shaking her head a few moments later. _"No, no bedbugs here!"_

Vince smiled at his partner as she finally closed her phone a minute or two later. He already loved that kid; the vigilante paid a visit to his son every day, he just wished now that he could visit his _daughter _every day as well.

Orwell sensed what the sandy blonde was thinking about and kissed his temple. "Someday soon, Vince," she replied rather quietly.

He wrapped an arm around the brunette and gently guided her back to his chest. The last thing that he remembered before falling asleep was the blogger powering down her laptop and hunkering even closer to him to get comfortable enough to sleep.

**Fluffy endings? Yay! Well, I didn't think that I'd ever get this chapter done. You know what to do. *points to box at the bottom of the page***


	9. Getting Away With Murder

**I cannot believe this, but this is the last chapter before the epilogue. While I really have been procrastinating this update, I'll do my best to get it done as quickly as I can. **

**As always, I'm thanking IronAmerica and XxDeathStarxX for their lovely reviews last chapter. **

**I do not own The Cape or Trauma Center/Team, nor do I gain profit from writing this story. **

_**Second Chance- Chapter Nine: Getting Away With Murder**_

Peter Fleming had been wondering what he was going to do with his chief of police, now that he knew about Vince faking his own death. Chess had tried to convince Peter just to kill him off and make it look like an accident, but the billionaire didn't seem like he was impressed with the idea. Hiring someone else to do the killing was fine, but he knew that his alter ego would make a mess of things if he were given the opportunity to kill Marty himself.

The only question was: Who would be dumb enough to take the bait? After the last show at the docks with Scales and his goons, the billionaire was considering calling on the smuggler to help get the job done. It didn't seem like a bad idea to Peter. He couldn't talk to Chess about this much; the only thing he had on his mind was his obsession with the bloody Cape.

The elder Fleming knew that it was all up to him at this point. If he couldn't figure out something, then the Scooby Gang of Palm City would be sure to rob him of all of the power that he had worked so hard to gain.

o—o—o

Orwell was doing her usual snoopy blogger duties when she discovered the deal that her father had made with Scales. It was more than a little nerve wracking, seeing how Marty was the only person who had solid evidence that he could use against the criminal mastermind. She had talked it over with Vince again and again, but neither of them could really come up with a decent plan. The only thing that either of them could think of dealt with a certain public defender helping them out. After all, she _was_ good at manipulating things to her liking. In the end though, it seemed like the best plan to go through with.

Dana never thought that she would have to be friendly with the smuggler known as Dominic Raoul. No one ever had anything good to say about him, which worried the public defender to no end. Of course, he _was _a part of organized crime. And everyone knew that organized crime was quite sketchy with the citizens of Palm City. While she really didn't want to, Dana had to focus on the brighter side. If she could distract Scales long enough, Marty could get out of town and testify against Fleming. Even if she and her husband had agreed on divorce, she still wanted to see the Faraday name cleared. For _all _of them.

The blogger did thorough research on the time and the place that Scales had agreed to meet Marty at. While the chief of police thought that he was meeting a client in ARK, he would really be meeting the smuggler. Fleming was going to make sure that the plan didn't fall through the cracks. Luckily all of the other employees were far too afraid of him to pull the stunt that Voyt did, but he still made sure that no one would be able to retrace their steps, even the employees. But, just in case, the chosen room had sound proofed walls and any security feed would have been buried so deep that even Orwell wouldn't be able to find it. However, Fleming didn't think about the interception of one Dana Faraday.

o—o—o

Dana dropped Trip off in the company of his father and his crazy carnival friends before heading off to ARK. Using the everyday logic that came with being a lawyer, she figured that Scales would want to be punctual for this… appointment. If he were late, Marty had the opportunity to leave, saying that he had another meeting after. Fleming would be outraged and would probably try to give the smuggler hell for it. However, Dana thought with a snicker escaping her lips, if the billionaire did _try_ that, Scales would probably eat him for breakfast.

At that point, she was just focused on distracting the smuggler long enough for his meeting with Marty to end. After that, she wasn't really worried about Scales. Because, at that time, she, Vince, Orwell and the carnival of crime would be working on getting Marty out of town, most likely through Trolley Park.

The public defender pulled up on the street leading to ARK, smiling to herself as the hood of her car began to smoke. She wasn't delusional by any means; this was all a part of her diabolical plan to stall Scales from killing Marty. An overheated engine and cooling system was an easy problem in the constant heat wave that was Palm City, California. And, luckily, it was also an easy fix if the plan went horribly awry.

Scales was already having a bad day. From his tea kettle kicking the bucket to a traffic jam first thing in the morning, everything that had gone wrong _did _go wrong. The smuggler wanted to go back to bed and tell Fleming that he could shove his plan up his arse. But… here he was, driving up to ARK. The traffic had already died down, all except for the little blonde bird that stood in front of her car. She opened up the hood and it started smoking _very _noticeably. He could have very easily passed Dana without a word, but something about leaving a girl who was so obviously in distress bothered him.

The public defender hid a victorious smile that crept on her face as the smuggler got out of his car to check on her. Sometimes it paid to be a damsel in distress.

"Ye a'right li'l bird?" Scales finally asked with concern etching across his face as he came closer. Something that not many people knew about him was that he _was _a gentleman where he saw it fit.

"I'm alright, I guess…" Dana let out a sigh as she lifted her head from the hood of her car. "I just… having a little bit of car troubles."

The smuggler grinned at her, just a little bit, before he offered, "Want me to take a peek at it?"

"I'd actually really like that," the public defender began, sparing him a smile as well. My God, she thought to herself, was he actually trying to _charm_ her?

Scales took off his really expensive looking blazer and handed it over to Dana for safe keeping. It only took him all of a minute to figure out what the problem was. "Yer engine an' cooling unit 're fryin' under the damn heat wave we've been under."

Dana stood back a little, crossing her arms. "Then, what can I do about it?"

The smuggler chuckled a little and plopped down in the driver's seat of her car. "If ye turn the heat on, the engine will start to cool off again." He looked up at her, amuse written all over his face. Well, this definitely beat murdering someone, he thought to himself.

The public defender watched closely as he turned the heat on in her car. "Are you going to really sit in there with the blazing heat on you? It's just as bad, if not worse, outside!"

"I'm cold-blooded darlin'. The heat doesn't bother me," Scales began again. Of course, he knew he had lied. The heat bothered him, but he was just too stubborn to wear looser clothes. (Especially given the scars from his childhood…)

Dana smiled at him again, though she really didn't believe that. She called it mother's intuition. "Well, thanks for helping me. I didn't really expect it from you, Mr. Raoul."

"It was me pleasure," the smuggler spoke as he got out of the car and smiled a bit at the strawberry blonde. "And aren't ye the widower of the bloke t'at got 'imself blown to bits?"

She flinched back a little at his bluntness. Even though she knew that Vince was alive and well, that still stung when people mentioned that. Not to mention it just made her even more pissed off at her husband for keeping away from her for a year.

Dana finally cleared her throat and answered back, "Yes. That, unfortunately, would be me. Dana Faraday."

Scales winced at the tone of her voice and her sudden tense form. "'M sorry, luv. Not much of a people person." At that point, he was feeling pretty awful. Their meeting had gone so well and then he had to screw it up. The public defender noted that he had the same kicked puppy expression on his face that Vince did whenever he knew that he screwed up somehow. It was still kinda cute, even on the smuggler.

"It's alright. How about I treat us to some coffee? It's the least that I can do, you know," she spared him a genuine smile. "You did fix my car."

The smuggler considered that for a moment. He quickly glanced down at his watch, noticing that his appointment with Marty was… pretty much over. Or it would be soon. Murder or having coffee with a pretty li'l bird like Dana…? Scales didn't even have to think about that. He had finally decided that Fleming could shove that plan up his arse or get someone else to do it.

As he agreed to go with Dana to the coffee shop, the public defender was mentally grinning like a madman. Her plan had worked! Now all she had to do was get through to Marty and get him the hell out of dodge.

o—o—o

Vince was getting rather anxious. He knew that his wife was working to get Marty out of town, and he knew that that meant his name would be cleared soon. But what worried him the most was: What would come after that? He knew that he was in love with partner, but that didn't mean anything unless she wanted to be with him. She said that she loved him, but he didn't know if she wanted to be caught up in the mess with Dana and Trip as well… She already had enough to deal with when it came to Rose and her father.

And that wasn't all, the vigilante thought as he plopped down on a couch with a rough sigh. He was still at the Carnival with his partner; Dana would be coming back to report fairly soon. If everything went well and Marty was still very much alive, he would be coming to Trolley Park with his family and Dana as they prepared for the Voyts to leave Palm City. Vince would have liked to help his wife out, 'cause God knew what Fleming would do if he found out what they were doing, but what was a hard pill to swallow was that _Scales _was helping out. Those two had _apparently _hit it off and the smuggler became a part of their little army.

Begrudgingly, Vince had to sit back and wait for the call to do something. Why Dana trusted a known _criminal _was beyond him. How did she know that Scales wasn't going to tell Fleming everything that he was being fed? Of course, he was forgetting just how intimidating Dana Faraday could be.

Orwell came into the room, tearing her partner out of his reverie. She had two mugs of coffee in her hands and a thoughtful smile in place. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

"Hey Orwell," the vigilante began, his genuine smile still in place.

"Hey. You still sulking?" she asked, her smile turning into a playful smirk as she handed his coffee mug over.

"Oh, you know, just a bit. It's not every day that your wife decides to hook up with a criminal," Vince sighed and covered his face with a free hand.

"In all fairness, Vince," Orwell began as she rubbed his back gently, "you two did agree to just start seeing other people."

The framed cop picked his head up and moved it to lay again his partner's shoulder. "Yeah. But I didn't mean for that other person to be _Scales_!"

"You can't blame her for who she has feelings for," the brunette spoke, looking at him as though there was a hidden message behind that.

And, as thick headed as he may have been, Vince picked up on that hidden message and threw an arm around her waist. "I know," he sighed, "I'm sorry, Orwell."

The two sat there in silence for a few moments. The vigilante stroked his thumb against her hip and moved his head to rest against hers. The coffee had been forgotten by both parties, which was saying something for Orwell.

"Orwell?" Vince spoke up, breaking the quite calming silence.

"Hm?" the blogger answered, still a little out of it.

"After my name is cleared, would you want to stay with me? I mean, not _just_ as my partner but as my girlfriend as well?" He set their coffee mugs aside and pulled her closer to him, his lips at her ear now. "I just don't want to feel like you're obliged to be with me, just because of all of this. It's gonna be hectic, since Dana and I are going to be going through a divorce soon. And with you already dealing with Rose, I don't want this to be hard on you."

"Vince, I think we've already agreed on this. Probably not officially, but we really didn't need to," Orwell began to tick things off with her fingers as she went on, "we've been… rather _intimate _lately. The L word has already been tossed around, and you and Dana have already decided on splitting up…" she looked up at her partner, "I don't know what else I need to say, Vince. I love you to death and I do want to be with you."

The curly blonde blew out a sigh of relief and tightened his arm around the brunette. "I love you too. And I want to be your boyfriend, your husband… and I want Rose part of our family."

Orwell jerked her head back for a moment to stare at Vince in a little shock. "You're saying that you want to adopt Rose? I mean, I know that I'm her sister. But… it doesn't feel like that."

"You're her mom more than you are her sister, Orwell. You'll already get her legally as her guardian after Fleming is put in prison. Why not make that motherly title official? I'll be right there behind you in the whole thing. She needs a father too, doesn't she?"

The hacker hugged her partner as closely as she possibly could, on the very verge of tears. "I'll look forward to that, then," she whispered.

o—o—o

As of that evening, the Voyts were on their way out of Palm City. Dana had paid a visit to Susan and explained to her that they needed to get out of town, or Marty would be in grave danger. Fleming had already tried to have him killed once, who was to say that he wouldn't try to do it again? Scales had, in the meantime, tried to distract Fleming as Marty got away to Trolley Park along with his family. ARK was already busy trying to crack a complete black-out, thanks to the friendly neighborhood blogger Orwell.

The trial began against Peter Fleming and ARK had been going on about a week after that when Vince came across the newspaper bin that contained the newest issue of the _Palm City Herald_. The heading made the vigilante stop in his tracks and grin widely. "_CEO of ARK: The Real Chess"._

**And that brings this chapter to a close. Stay tuned for the epilogue! **


	10. Epilogue: Welcome to Euphoria

**I cannot believe that I'm finishing up yet another story! Didn't I just finish up Intertwined Fates last week? I vote for a recall! My stories are growing up too fast! **

**Many thanks go out to my lovely reviewers, and also I'd like to thank everyone who has read this story along the way. It's come quite a long ways, since there were many times that I didn't think that I'd be able to finish it. **

**I do not own Trauma Center/Team or The Cape. Here's the epilogue!**

_**Second Chance- Chapter Ten: Epilogue: Welcome to Euphoria**_

Rosalia Rossellini-Fleming sat in one of the many offices in the Palm City courthouse. She was in between her guardians, Vince and Jamie, as they both worked on the set of adoption papers that would legally make Rose their adopted daughter. It had been a little over a year and a half since Peter had been put in prison; since that year, a lot had happened. The formerly framed cop and his wife had gotten their divorce, which led into his proposal and eventual marriage with Orwell. From there, the couple had found a steady home and tried their best to provide for the little blonde.

Now the eight-year-old was as nervous as could be. Not even the brunette's soft hand clasped on her knee was doing much. Rose smiled as her mother-to-be stroked a thumb against it very gingerly in hopes to calm her down; she could only wish that that much would calm her down. Everything was passing through her mind at once. The little blonde had no doubt in her mind that she wanted these two as her parents, she was just a little… wary about getting used to a new routine. No matter what, there would always be that little nagging thought in the back of her mind that she would be taken back to the orphanage.

Vince shot a glance down at his soon-to-be adopted daughter and noticed that she was looking pretty nervous. He couldn't blame her though. After all that this little girl had been through, it was a wonder how she was even willing to accept them adopting her. He sent her an easy smile as their eyes met before he went back to work. And, while it wasn't much, it meant _something_, just as Orwell's gentle touch did.

After a while, though, the adoption process was complete. Just like Orwell was now a Faraday, so was Rosalia. As the eight-year-old was led out of the courthouse by her parents, she felt the happiest she had ever been in quite some time. The nervous jitters had subsided, which told her that these two parents _would_ be the ones that she would have for the rest of her life.

o—o—o

Ever since then, things were coming around nicely. Orwell had gained control of ARK, where she was still trying to make amends for all of the crap that her father had done during the year that the business had been running. Vince had become her head of security, most likely so that they could be all kissy-face when no one was around, according to their daughter.

Rosalia had gotten used to the way of the Faraday-Fleming family fairly quickly. Of course, her parents were coming up with it as they went along as well, so it all worked out. Every Friday they went over to the Raoul- Thompson home and every other Friday Trip would come home with them for his visit with his father. The little blonde didn't mind being in a blended family. Dana treated her like another child, just as her husband Dominic did. And Trip treated her like the little sister that she was, even though she could have lived without getting noogied every time she saw her older brother…

Pretty soon, she started attending the public school system that Trip was in. Her parents felt that she would be better off going there with Trip to look after her. Up until that point, she had a private tutor courtesy of ARK Corporation. It ended up working out for the best, all in all. Rose got to be a child, one that didn't have to worry about getting her family and friends sick.

o—o—o

Birthdays were important holidays to the Faradays. Even in Vince's previous marriage, birthdays were sacred. It was all about that one person and celebrating how old they were, even if they hated the fact. When April 21st came around, Rosalia didn't think that it was a big deal. She was now nine years old, but she didn't expect a big to do about it. This was because all of her other parents, apart from Peter, either forgot about her birthday or didn't do much for the occasion.

The little blonde woke up at that morning, early as usual, to watch her favorite cartoons. She plopped down on the couch a little groggily and turned on the TV. For quite a few minutes, she was in her own little world as she watched Looney Tunes. But she was soon interrupted by her mother coming into the room. Orwell had a shiny silver bag hanging off of her fingers, which she handed over to the birthday girl as she sat next to her.

"What's this?" Rosalia asked, looking up at her mother with curious pink eyes.

"It's your birthday present, sweetie," the brunette replied a little worriedly, "Please tell me you've gotten a present before."

"Oh! I have," the nine-year-old spared her a tiny smile. "I just wasn't sure that you remembered. Not many of my parents remembered my birthday, or got the chance to…"

Orwell set the bag aside and took her daughter into her arms. "Rose, haven't we been telling you that everything was different now? We're not going to drop you off at an orphanage. You are our daughter and," the blogger paused, pressing a kiss on the top of her head, "you are going to remain that way forever."

Rosalia wrapped her tiny arms around her mother and hugged her back as tightly as she could. With her eyes clenched shut, she replied a murmured "thank you".

Vince came into the living room with a mug of coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. When he saw his girls in the midst of their mother-daughter moment, he just grinned, placed the drinks down and went back to the kitchen to get his coffee. Once he returned, both girls were drinking their drinks as if their lives depended on it.

"Morning, dad!" Rosalia greeted quite cheerfully. Orange juice to her was like coffee to the hacker. It brought out the best in her.

The vigilante chuckled as he plopped down on the other side of his daughter. "Morning, birthday girl."

Orwell sent a smile over to her husband as she put her coffee mug down. "Speaking of, she was getting ready to open her birthday bag." She handed the silver bag over to her child again, who took it very gingerly.

Rose dug into the bag thoughtfully, and pulled out a box that was neatly wrapped in birthday paper. In under a minute, the box was unwrapped, shredded paper sprinkled all over her lap. Her parents watched as her eyes sparkled down at the box, which contained a lime green touch screen camera.

"There's more, you know," the brunette added as she settled onto her husband's lap with a tiny grin.

The nine-year-old ducked her head a bit to look into the bag. There were two more wrapped packages in there, as well as a card. She blushed as she noticed the card. "Sorry. I got carried away with the big box first," she sheepishly added.

Vince wrapped his arm around Orwell's waist and chuckled heartily in her ear. "That's how kids are period. Big boxes stand out in their minds first," he whispered down to her.

Rose opened up the middle sized box first, which turned out to be a moving picture frame. Courtesy of the tech savvy mother, the pictures that were taken from the camera could be uploaded onto the picture frame, via a micro SD card. This was a very handy and well organized present, according to most. The last box turned out to be a case for her camera. With the card forgotten, the birthday girl jumped on her parents and hugged them for all it was worth.

"You've still got a card, silly," the brunette laughed as she hugged the little girl back.

The blonde child pulled away, a blush on her face once again, accompanied by a sheepish grin. "Well, I'm thanking you guys ahead of time!"

Vince shared a look with his wife, who then burst into laughter right alongside him. There wasn't a dull moment with a kid around; that was for sure. And it was even worse with two kids around instead of one. God knew how crazy it would be around the Faraday home when more kids were added into the equation.

Rosalia looked back at her parents, more than a little confused at their sudden laughter. "What? What did I say?"

o—o—o

A little later on that day, Orwell and Vince invited over Dana, Scales, and Trip for the actual birthday party. The blogger would be spending hours on end in the kitchen, as she loved to do. It was always nice to have the public defender, who turned out to be her best friend, over so that she had someone to help out for big meals like these.

And, while he didn't really want to, the curly haired blonde's job was to put up with his ex-wife's new husband as he bullied him about anything and everything. Vince knew that he was just joking around, but still. He still put on the cape for Palm City and it just annoyed him to no end that now _two _known criminals were in his family. With that being said, though, he still wouldn't ask for a different life.

Rosalia and Trip left out the backdoor to play with her new camera. Mostly this was just the two of them being silly and trying to take pictures of them doing handstands and other crazy stunts, with the sincere hope that one of them would fall flat on their face while doing it.

"Well, I believe that the kids are enjoying themselves," Dana began as she looked out the kitchen window. She was in the midst of washing her hands so that she could help her friend with the birthday cake she was making.

Orwell chuckled to herself as she looked out the back door. "Oh yeah," she sighed as she went back to mixing up the cake batter, "at least Rose is putting her camera to good use."

"Trip needed a little sister, even though he tried to claim that he'd rather have a dog," the public defender smiled rather fondly as she came back over to the blogger.

"Would you like to have another kid someday?" the brunette asked, handing the mixing bowl over to Dana. As she picked up on the mixing, Orwell went over to preheat the oven.

"I've been thinking about it, sure. In fact… Dom and I are actually considering it now that we've moved into an actual house, versus an apartment," the strawberry blonde added, looking over her shoulder at the younger woman. "Why? Would you?"

"Of course I would. I love Rosalia with all my heart, but I'd like to know what it's like to carry a baby," Orwell shrugged, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "I know it's probably stupid of me to think that, but I do."

"It's not stupid, Jamie. I totally understand why you would want to do that. It's… not a walk in the park, I'll tell you that right now. But, I think that you could do it," Dana sent her a warm smile, "and your mix is all thick and ready to go."

The brunette took the mixing bowl from her friend and poured it directly into two different baking pans. "Hey, maybe we should get pregnant at the same time. Be a nightmare to our husbands at the same time," she grinned, completely joking. Well, mostly.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea, you know. Maybe we could torment them to the point where they lock us up in the same room and take turns waiting on both of us," the public defender offered, completely serious.

By that time, the men had come into the kitchen to see what they were up to. This was mostly just so they could say that they offered to help, otherwise they would get bitched at later for not pitching in.

"Torturing husbands?" Vince asked as he came in behind Scales. "Why do I not like the sound of that?"

"Because you know that we'd make your lives a living hell," Orwell smiled at her husband as he padded over to her.

"This is why I agree with everything that you say, babe," Vince grinned and pecked at her lips. "And… you've got some cake batter in your hair," he added as he swiped a finger across the top of her head, coming out with the cake batter on the finger.

The blogger smirked up at her husband, happy with his answer. "I dunno, Dana, you think they could handle us both like that at once?"

Scales and Vince shared a look, which clearly interpreted into confusion. They were a little worried that the girls were discussing a relationship between the four of them, or something as equally as scarring.

"Oh I think that they wouldn't have a choice, since we're the bosses of them, anyhow," Dana said to the brunette, a smirk just as sly on her face.

"Um, I think I'm scared now," Vince admitted, swallowing a hard lump in his throat.

"Besides, the babies would be happier if they had someone closer to their age than Trip or Rose…" Orwell considered. And actually, that plan didn't sound too bad to her.

"Vince, I t'ink the ladies 'ave made a plan without us…" the smuggler called back to the vigilante. Both men were more than a little nervous at this point.

"You're right, Dom," his wife told him, quite chipper. The younger woman popped the baking pans into the oven, snickering to herself.

"And what is this _plan_?" the curly blonde asked, taking his wife into his arms as she came back to him.

"Oh just that Dana and I are going to get pregnant at the same time and drive you both insane with our midnight cravings of disgusting foods," Orwell stated matter-of-factly.

Vince panicked at that thought. Dana was a nightmare when she was pregnant with Trip. All he could tell Scales to do was just smile and nod. "Well… is that what you really want? You want another kid?"

"I do," the brunette responded, smiling back at him just a little. And why should she do it alone? She and Dana could feed off of each other as they complained about the discomfort and the wacky cravings.

The formerly framed cop and the deformed smuggler shared another glance again. What could they _possibly_ say against that? At this point, it was just best to agree. After all, the women _were_ the bosses.

Rose and Trip ran back in the house not even a minute after that. The younger child was giggling and holding her camera close to her chest as her older brother chased after her. Clearly she got a somewhat embarrassing picture of Trip, and he would make _sure_ that she deleted it.

"Hey! Be careful!" Orwell called after them.

"You break it you bought it, mister!" Dana added, mindful of Trip being a rambunctious ten year old.

o—o—o

Everything worked out for the best, in the big scheme of things. Dana and Orwell both were able to bitch and moan about the not so finer things in pregnancy, all while their men waited on them hand and foot. Okay so the girls didn't let them do _everything_, but it was fun as hell to make them antsy.

Dana and Scales welcomed a baby girl, who they named Elizabeth, whereas Vince and Orwell welcomed a baby boy, who they named Elijah. Liz and Eli turned out to be best friends and always hung out with each other. That meant that the Faraday and Raoul homes would always be close, no matter what.

As Orwell lay down next to her husband each night, there was that constant reminder that she couldn't have been happier. Ever since she met him, she knew that they had something. But now that she knew just what that _something_ was, it was even more special. They were in love and that was all that mattered. Really, that was all that ever mattered to them.

**These darn epilogues never want to be written! Well, now that Second Chance is finally done, I have to ask what your favorite chapter was. This is Orwell, signing out. **


End file.
